Tag Archives: anxiety attacks

February 3, 2012

aim high — in this case 52 stories!

By arlynnpresser

so i went to a yoga class at south boston yoga studio with my facebook friend mary mcmanus.  last year, she was friend number 168, meaning she was the one hundred and sixty eighth person i saw in 2011.  she took me on a tour of my older son joseph’s campus–in all four years he attended boston university, i had not once flown out to see him.  bad mother?  maybe.  but it was because i was afraid.   afraid of travel, afraid of flying, afraid of everything.  meeting all your facebook friends all over the world puts a dent in the fear of flying thing.

in any event, i told mary that my new year’s resolution for 2012 is to pay forward the encouragement, love and support shown to me by my facebook friends, mary most particularly.  she was my cheerleader.  she was always one for a good word of encouragement.  i wanted to give that to others and i told her i was coming into boston to meet two new facebook friends who have trouble with panic attacks and fear.  mary and her husband tom invited me to stay with them.  i went out for a three hour lunch with mary the moment i arrived.  i felt so loved and so happy.  we went to the yoga class in part because mary is devoted to yoga but also because i wanted to see for myself whether it had the anti-anxiety effects mary promised.

it sure did.  my acid reflux was gone.  for the first time in weeks, i didn’t have that horrible sword in chest feeling.  i’m not one for organized exercise classes, never gone in for chanting, but this was the goods!  then mary and i went to meet mary tabbi-fuller and her sister in law angela lopresti.  i was a little concerned about mary because she had spent the weekend in the hospital, suffering from an episode of low blood sugar.  i hoped it wasn’t brought on by anxiety.

the four of us ate lunch and mary had prepared a list of resources for angela and lisa to consider.  boston area doctors and therapists and, of course, the south boston yoga studio.   and then it was time to try. . .

there are many ways to overcome generalized panic and anxiety — but one that i really appreciate is conquering one thing and then taking that “wow, i did it!” feeling and applying it to other situations.  lisa and angela both were afraid of elevators but most particularly of heights.  lisa,  a phlebotomist, felt that some of her anxiety had led her to calling in sick more than was acceptable and she needed to get a grip on her fear.  we chose the fifty second story of the prudential center. . .

i was so happy walking into the light with mary, lisa and angela!

angela, mary, me, and lisa at the top of the hub in boston! notice we're not scared to sit by the window, which isn't something i could have predicted!

 

today think of something you’re afraid of that you think most people are not.  i’m not talking about playing with an anaconda.  i am talking about having a conversation with the barista at your coffee joint, riding the Ferris wheel with your kids, speaking up for yourself at tomorrow’s sales meeting, forgiving a friend and letting them back into your life.

 

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January 5, 2012

if you’re shaking with fear, i am too!

By arlynnpresser

so last year right around this time i couldn’t leave the house.  i was scared.  i had scared myself witless by making a new years eve resolution to meet all 325 of my facebook friends.

it would take a lot to get me to leave the house. you might have a phobia that everyone knows about or that you keep to yourself. it might sound silly to others or to yourself but it's real. okay, except maybe freddy krueger in my house isn't. . .

 

so i hope you have made a resolution.  something about yourself that you want to change.  something that defeats you, makes you feel like you’re not as good as others, that paralyzes you.  i want you to figure out a specific goal that will show you once and for all that you are strong.  make it a very specific goal and write it down.  and then go tell every one of your friends. . . some of them will laugh, some of them will shrug their shoulders like it’s no big deal.

but some of your friends already know what this means to you.  and they are the ones who will tell you that you CAN!  

 

i want to know your resolution.  you can email me, you can comment, you can friend me on facebook and tell me about it.  but i want to know what it is.  and if it’s that you want to leave your house, i want you to tell me too!

one of my new facebook friends messaged me that his sister is getting married in march.  he’s housebound and most of his family assumes he won’t be able to go to the wedding.  much less dance at the wedding.  which is something he’d really like to do.  i hope he emails me today to tell me that he has visualized himself having fun at the reception, or that he’s visited the website of the church so that he’s familiar with the layout, or even that he called his sister and asked her to show him some of her wedding preparations.  just one thing.  tomorrow is soon enough for step two.

i spent the first week of january last year unsure of what to do to reach my goal.  to visit a friend in the philippines?  to see someone in nome, alaska?  to travel to new york city?  325 friends, all in one year?  time for the blindfold.

pick one small thing you can do today and write down immediately what you did.  and tell me about it.  

the first day i started working on my resolution, i visited one friend.  my younger son eastman.  we went out onto the front porch and smoked cigarettes.  i know, not a very good thing for a mom to do but i really felt that i was getting one step closer.  just 324 more friends, i thought.

if i had thought too much about how many countries i would visit and how many times i would shut the door on my house and leave i couldn't have done it.

 

so pick the first step for today.  one tiny tiny thing that gets you an inch closer to your goal. 

my goal this year is to take what i learned about last year and make this YOUR year.  to write and share about my experiences.  to give back what my friends gave me in 2011, namely their support and their time and their energy.

so tell me about your goal, tell me about what you did today.

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November 20, 2011

if i’ve only one life. . .

By arlynnpresser

if i've only one life, let me live it as a blonde was a cathphrase clairol used in 1960s advertisements

it’s been a long time since i have lived in my natural hair color.  in fact, i’m not sure what it is.  every six weeks or so, i get depressed enough that i go to walgreens and buy a box of feria by l’oreal. i use the same shade that is widely advertised to be used by beyonce–#72 dark golden blonde.  oddly enough, i never end up looking like beyonce. i’m not alone in my endeavors. over seventy percent of american women color their hair and going blonde(r) is THE color.

in addition to coloring my hair, i cut my own hair.  usually on the front lawn so that the little snips of hair don’t get all over the house.  i assume somewhere is a very young squirrel who doesn’t appreciate how his mommy brings home nesting materials made from my hair.  people always know when i have cut my hair.  they get a quizzical look on their face.  it’s not quite a look of approval.   i think it’s that they’re wondering if they can help in some way.  especially since i usually don’t use a mirror.   i don’t like getting my nails done, getting a massage, enduring a facial, suffering through a pedicure.  as bad as i was about the fish pedicure in brighton, i’m even worse if there’s a human touching my toes.

so when f2fb friend #260 bridget greco-cokefair suggested that i come to the taylor reese salon in highland park i was queasy.  don’t get me wrong–bridget is wonderful.  she used to color my sons’ hair when they would get parts in plays or movies that required them to be blondes.  or, in the case of joseph, full on white hair.  she’s been very good to our family.  she said she wanted to make me look like the real me.  just better.

i sat in her chair.  she has two chairs going at one time.  the woman in bridget’s second chair seemed perfectly at ease reading a magazine while she waited for her hair to “proecess”.  bridget asked me what i wanted done with my hair.  i said “whatever you want”, secretly hoping she’d go for pink.

bridget put a cape around my shoulders and began slathering my hair with colorant and then wrapping the hair with foil.  i started turning red.  bright red.  my face, my chest, my arms.  i had trouble breathing. i wondered how ridiculous the paramedics would consider me if i were to have to be transported to the hospital with half my head wrapped in foil.  also, would that half end up frying off my scalp????

“if you need to get up and walk around,” bridget offered.

but i knew if i got up i wouldn’t sit down again and then i would have half my head wrapped in tin foil.  also, everybody in the salon–all of them looking quite soigne and relaxed–would know i was incapable of managing the most simple tasks of the twenty first century life.  i played it cool.

“does anybody else ever. . . ?”

“get nervous in the chair?”  bridget prompted.  “absolutely!  a lot of my customers are that way.  i even get hives sometimes when i’m getting my hair done.  i’ll be done in ten minutes and then you can walk all over the place.”

wow!  that was reassuring.  so i went with it.  i was red.  and redder.  like a maraschino cherry in a turtleneck sweater.  and then, after a bit, i just let go of the feeling.  the hives disappeared.  and here’s what i ended up with–

if i have only one life to live, maybe i should live it as i am? i have lots of flaws and quirks and one of them is that i've always thought that being a blonde was the platonic ideal of womanhood. also, that beyonce is. on the latter point, i'm absolutely right and jay-z says it's so! p.s. i'm still a little red-faced.

bridget was shy about having her picture taken but she was quite happy with the results of her efforts–and i am too.  i think this might be the color God made me with!

if you want an appointment with bridget, just call taylor reese salon in highland park at 847 432 8800 or go to their website at taylor-reese.com!

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November 17, 2011

thank God it wasn’t paintball!

By arlynnpresser

if i ever move to a new town, i shall take a job with caribou coffee.  within a month, i’m sure i’ll have some friends.  it’s like creating your own facebook profile and friends list from scratch.  also, the pay is pretty darn good, especially when you add in tips (note to i.r.s. there are no tips) and why not starbucks?  oddly, it’s f2fb friend #256 melissa palka who gave me a good reason to not go with the seattle folks.

starbucks was named for the first mate in herman melville's novel moby dick

melissa explained that the rules at starbucks are a bit more rigid than at caribou.  for instance, a starbucks barista is expected to spend no more than thirty seconds interacting with a customer while still trying to establish a personal relationship that will make the customer feel loyalty.  thirty seconds feels like 140 characters–you need more than that.  melissa and i went to lazer quest to work off some caffeine jitters.

when i first separated from my husband, i tried really hard to make time with my sons be special.  it was a guilty parent move.  joseph would fire off all his rounds within the first thirty seconds and retire the field.  younger brother eastman would be quite aggressive but he had a backup that he wasn’t aware of–me–and so he took risks he shouldn’t have.

melissa is a wonderful gal but i think she had cased the joint before we started.  final score:  melissa 121 and me?  a negative 28.  and i fired several rounds into an employee who wasn’t too keen about it. the title of this post says it all.

later, melissa and i had a drink and talked about her ambitions.  she is in line to become a shift manager.  and from there, who knows.  caribou has a lot of room for ambitious baristas.

i drove home feeling pretty good despite the bruising score.  so i was surprised when i woke up the next morning with a case of “don’t go out of the house”. . . an anxiety attack that strangled me all day.  two ativan didn’t make a dent in it.  a hot shower provided no relief.  i watched several episodes of glee and that didn’t do anything.  i listened to a meditation tape.  i tried to walk to the workout room.  but i turned around after a block.  i was just too scared.

and it weirded me out because i kept thinking “i’ve been around the world!”  somehow i thought i had fundamentally changed.  it felt like defeat that i hadn’t.  later in the day, i forced myself out the door.  i walked towards the grocery store and on the way met jo caylor who is yes a f2fb friend but also someone from the neighborhood.  she asked me why i was shaking so much.  i started to talk, was pretty much incoherent.  she did what anybody should do to me when they see me like this.  she gave me a hug.

jo knows someone who is just like me, who gets out of the house even less than i did before i started this project.  i asked her what made this person so afraid.  and jo said “something bad always happens to her when she leaves the house, or at least, that’s what she thinks.”

maybe that’s what i was thinking yesterday.  maybe i just couldn’t think of what the bad thing was.

after seeing jo and walking around for a bit, i went to caribou and said hi to melissa!

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October 15, 2011

a f2fb friend takes me to the land’s end!

By arlynnpresser

 

planes, trains and automobiles was bromantic comedy about two men who employ all transportation modes to make it home for the thanksgiving--for my f2fb project i've employed taxis, planes, trains, automobiles, bipedalism, bicycles, and one rickshaw!

f2fb friend #233 christy russ lives in homer, alaska, so i was out like a shot from the house at six a.m. central standard time and aiming for chicago’s o’hare airport.  the six hour flight was fun because the world touring cast of the chippendale’s dance troupe was seated all around me.  they seemed to have incredible trouble getting into and out of their seats, particularly if they had to negotiate over the laps of one of their fellow dancers.  but they had such good humor about this, giggling and poking each other–i wonder if all dance troupes have such joie de vivre.

after the flight, there was a little tussle because i couldn’t remember which rental car company i was using.  it was fun getting to know the agents from alamo, enterprise, budget, thrifty, avis, economy.  then there was a five hour trip south west toward homer, alaska.  homer boasts the land’s end restaurant which is — wait for it! — the western most part of the state of alaska which can be reached without using a ferry or plane!  it’s the end of the road.

christy is the sister of f2fb friend #84 cory russ rickerson, who teaches in madison wisconsin.  christy grew up in winnetka and northfield and it takes incredible courage to come to “land’s end” to live.  she did this a year and a half ago and now works with the developmentally disabled in homer.  i had met her at her mother’s funeral and then again at a fourth of july softball game. but because her and cory’s mother was at one time married to f2fb friend #100 bill seymour, she and i have a lot of friends in common.  so we end up noticing what each other is up to through facebook posts.

christy is a fabulously glamorous woman anywhere, but in homer, alaska, i think she would make a great mayor!

after dinner, i returned to my hotel–the best western–and fell asleep fully clothed with my shoes still on, holding my toothbrush, thinking i really should take a shower.   i woke up two hours later not remembering where i was.  suddenly convinced i was dying–heart attack or anaphylactic shock from the seafood i ate with christy,  i went out into the parking lot for some bracing alaska air.  i considered whether homer would have a hospital.  if they did, would it be open?  would the emergency room nurses laugh at me?  would i die out here?  would joseph and eastman retrieve my body?

there were several men in a second floor bedroom partying and hanging out their window.  we chatted.  i went back into my room.  i thought, “i’m really scared out here at the end of the world as i know it–and i will be above the arctic circle tomorrow!  i can’t do this sort of stuff!”

and then i took an ativan, got six beads into a rosary and went back to sleep.  the next morning i begin a five hour drive back into anchorage, a three hour flight to kotsebue and then a half hour puddle jump to nome to meet f2fb friend #234 ian coglan.  he’s a missionary who works at the kicy radio station.

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September 5, 2011

my near death facebook experience

By arlynnpresser

i did not want to go to iowa.  there were clouds.  there was a bad feeling in my chest.  there was an as yet unfinished book of montaigne essays on my bed. there are monsters, ufo’s, snakes, planes and automobiles out there in the world.  staying home seemed just the prudent thing to do.

but f2fb friend #206 had done the most amazing thing–she moved from wyoming to bellevue, iowa.  maybe not specifically to make my new year’s resolution of meeting all my facebook friends easier but who’s to know what motivates people?  in any event, i had to work it to get out of the house.

some of my friends have given me talismans to help me with my travels. f2fb friend #59 is the biographer of william clark, who is my f2fb friend#60. i take this clark doll with me on my travels along with a hedgehog given to me by f2fb friend #110 jeff barnes

i had never met julianne.  but she is an admirer of my facebook friend lanny jones, who is the biographer for william clark.  julianne is a writer of some note and a professor at the university of wyoming.

i packed the car.  i thought about backing out.  of the trip.  of the garage.  i was using a garmin gps system that is a talisman given to me by a nonfacebook friend who has been following my journeys.  the garmin “jack” guided me not along the expected highways but rather on a journey that took through short streets, alleyways, alongside cemeteries, through medical complexes–i made note of many emergency rooms i could have visited–and finally onto a bridge or a part of the road where the rains were swelling a river so profoundly that i was unsure whether i would be washed away.  that’s when i really freaked.  i tried to call my sons.  or text them to say goodbye.  but i couldn’t find my phone.   i did find my flip camera.  warning:  this video shouldn’t be watched unless you watch the next video as well!!!!

so i took one ativan, four zantacs, and eight pepcids.  i waited until someone on the other side of the road/bride crossed through the water.  i proceeded.  i probably freaked out julianne and her husband ron when i arrived because they promptly had me sit on the sofa with archie.

i tried to persuade archie to take a few training classes, get a blue “service dog” vest and come with me around the world!

julianne and her husband ron have hit the restart button their lives.  while julianne will continue to teach online at the university, they have their feet firmly planted in bellevue.  they only got to town in june but already they’ve made a lot of new friends.  julianne has some ideas about how to make friends, not just facebook friends–

julianne gave me a book she wrote — jukeboxes & jackalopes:  a wyoming bar journey.  she had to travel throughout wyoming on business as ron–a renowned artist–photographed the state.  she used the time to hang out in bars (a quite reasonable endeavor) and learn about the individual towns.  oddly, there is much to be learned from a town’s bars.  and other environs.  the couple told me that their new town is very communal in its eating habits.  one could dine out every night of the week at a church social, a kiwani’s fundraiser, an arts council after hours.

the pig roast of the day was preceded by a "polka" mass. i find religious services very cool, even if they're not of my faith

 

on my way home, i didn’t rely on the garmin gps.  instead, i thought i would use the atlas.  i ended up veering south towards kentucky and was hopelessly lost.  i plugged the garmin “jack” back in and he reassured me that he could get me home.  i am happy to be here now.  even if i’m packing for montreal.  whoops, these two friends have not been so considerate as to move closer. . . .

i told julianne that i embroidered this and that i had it framed and because i didn't want to embarrass her with my many talents, i put a tag on the back of the frame that said that an embroidery company had made this. plus a price tag. do you think she believes me?

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June 27, 2011

on this f2fb friend’s diet, you can eat a pint of ice cream a day and still lose weight!

By arlynnpresser

when i first made the new years eve resolution to meet every facebook friend i had (and at the time i had roughly 324), there was snow on the ground, my christmas tree was still up, and i weighed six pounds lighter.  there’s been a lot of planes, trains and automobiles since january first.  i feel like a python who has just swallowed the rabbit.

f2fb friend #162 sandy kolkey and i are roughly the same age.  we first became friends because his son zak and my son eastman were in class together.  somehow, i have grown older (and wider) and sandy hasn’t.  his wife lisa once suggested to me that she hates him because he can eat a pint of ice cream every night while watching the evening news and he still doesn’t gain weight.

when he suggested that i drive out to the soccer fields to play, i figured i’d get some evercise and find out how he keeps it together.  he said there were usually about five guys who played on each team and that natural attrition would eventually result in an invitation for this girl to join in the fun.  but when i arrived, i was a bit surprised at the playing field.

i have never played soccer and i didn’t get to play on sandy’s team.  i coached boys’ soccer for nine years, first for my son joseph’s teams and then for eastman’s.  i thought i was being a good mom even though i don’t think i taught them any particular skill — i think the most important thing they learned is that every game must have orange slices for refreshment at the half time and a snack afterwards.  my skill base is so abysmal that i didn’t understand offsides until three years into my tenure–i can hardly imagine what the referees thought of my responses when they would call my players on that charge. 

in any event, sandy’s theory is that his passion for physical exercise is because of his father.  sandy is now three years older than the age his father was when he died of pancreatic cancer.  my biological father justin (f2fb friend #30) is still alive but my adoptive father donald patrick suffered two heart attacks while i was a child.  i was with him when both occured.  i have sometimes wondered if that has made me prone to thinking of my anxiety as a heart attack issue. 

sandy is a world traveler and he said i will love mumbai in particular.  he had this sage advice to offer me:

i told sandy i had a three hour drive in front of me and he said he envied me this year.  that he wants to do something like this resolution i’m doing.  i didn’t realize that i’d be having taking tap dancing next with a woman who is on her own personal new years eve resolution and i would talk her out of quitting. . . .

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June 16, 2011

the worst time to have a heart attack

By arlynnpresser

the wrong time to have a heart attack is right after the doctor has left the car.  i mean, woo was in my mini–i had just dropped her off–she’s a doctor, she has her own clinic and in fact, when i picked her up at that same clinic, i believe she put a stethoscope in her purse–so she could perform cpr on me.  she might even have a scalpel and she could cut open my chest and reach in and squeeze my heart back into working order.

instead, i ended up in the parking lot across from the emergency room entrance at evanston hospital.  popping two ativan.  drinking vitamin water zero.  taking my pulse with the stopwatch app on my phone.  and wondering do i go in or not?

nobody does sarcasm better than an emergency room nurse who knows damn well you’re not having a heart attack when you know damn well you are.

i had been having a nice afternoon visit with dr. louise berner-holmberg, whom most people know as “woo”.  woo is fifty, like me, and has decided to do what she really wants with her life–which is to open a medical clinic for poor people.  a free clinic in a heavily hispanic neighborhood between my house and wisconsin.  a free clinic?  she could perform cpr on me and all i’d be obligated to do is send her flowers and a thank you note afterwards.

woo has treated this clinic with the same care as a great work of art.  for instance, the lobby is very comfortable and clean–she thinks of it as an insult to patients to make them wait in a scruffy area.  she has a tiny door built into one wall of the lobby so that kids can access a play area of the joint and spine rehabilitation clinic next door to hers.  woo even has medical charts where patients can see them–it is of great comfort to see lots of medical charts even if they are full of blank printing paper.

woo, like most other doctors these days, keeps medical records on her computer. therefore, these charts are not necessary but they look all efficient!

she has examining rooms decorated with pictures made by her children, or in this case, a framed hermes scarf.  tres chic!

is it wrong that i would lust after the hermes scarf?

she works seven days a week at the fenix clinic and has enlisted many volunteers in her effort to provide medical care to those who are uninsured and without resources.  she draws no salary, though she isn’t opposed to the idea of a paycheck.  i admire what she’s doing and as i drove her to her meeting to plan a fundraiser for next weekend, we talked about how lucky we are to do something bold and something quite scary and outsized for our fiftieth year.

every night woo worries about whether this cilnic is going to stay afloat. look at all the paperwork! i worry every day whether this project will stay afloat.

we hugged.  we said “see you next week at the fundraiser” and then i drove away with a funny pain in my chest that got worse.  and then came the little fear.  and the bigger one.  i drove directly to the parking lot of evanston hospital.

i’ve done this before.  i’m close enough that if it gets any worse i can go inside but not so close that the security guard starts thinking that i’m a stalker.  which i decide i won’t today.  i think the ativan are working.  i come home and i am writing at the dining room table. feeling very sheepish.  and not at all like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

i am definitely going to woo’s party at fenix on friday the twenty fourth from five thirty to eight p.m. it’s at 130 washington avenue in highwood.  for more information about her incredible work, go to fenixclinic.org

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June 12, 2011

a facebook friend’s life changes when the bishop sets fire to his store

By arlynnpresser

i had started to think of my little corner of redondo beach as home.  one room, free wi fi, maid service every other day.  a couple of times i considered cancelling whatever i was scheduled to do and just watching television all day.  it was the sort of motel that catered to people who d0 that.

instead of hiding i got on the the 5.  since everything is three hours from everything else in los angeles, it wasn’t that much of a change in the schedule of driving, stopping at a starbucks and driving some more. but i was giving up a safe space (redondo) without yet reaching another safe place.

the gap for someone like me is important.  it’s the space where anxiety attacks happen.  and i had a pretty major one just outside of camp pendleton.

but i was meeting howard smith.  f2fb #149.  but he’s more than just a facebook friend.  he’s someone i really admire.  he grew up in lexington, kentucky and moved to winnetka just after college graduate, taking a job at the “trouping the colors” clothing store, and freely told everybody that the only other job he had ever had was as a lifeguard.  when the owner retired, howard stepped up and became sole proprietor.  he was head of the chamber of commerce, of the rotary club, the unofficial mayor of the town, and then the bishop of the episcopal church of san diego set fire to his store.

the store was gutted.  everything that howard found safe and reassuring, the basis of his life, was gone.  for a while, howard had no idea what to do.  he had never imagined a life without fabric swatches, tape measures and silk ties rolled and placed just so on the round table at the center of his shop.

he and his wife felt a little lost.  they worried about how to send their two children to school, how to put aside for retirement, how to rebuild.

howard did something brave–he asked every friend he had to come up with five names.  not five names of people who were looking to hire someone or looking to invest in a retail business.  just five names of people who would go to lunch with him.  and talk about what they do.  howard was a promiscuous lunch partner and was thinking about what he really wanted to do.  he was even thinking about where he wanted to live–he had been across the mississippi exactly three times but now everything was on the table. . . .

he was like me, in the in between, on the road from redondo beach to san diego.

howard is now a development director for the episcopal archdiocese of san diego.  he and his wife love their new home.  and the thing he reminds me is. . . be grateful, be brave, accept that you’re going to be surprised by life.

and the bishop of the episcopal church of san diego?  well, he didn’t actually set fire to howard’s store (the cause of the blaze is pure accident) but the bishop, and indeed the entire diocese, is the happy beneficiary of those flames. . .

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June 8, 2011

my safe place in california–

By arlynnpresser

i was intimidated as i approached the gate house:  two other cars had been turned away.  the sign said not only was there to be no trespassing but have your driver’s license ready for inspection.  when it was time for me to pull up, i noticed the guard had a tattoo of a lipstick imprint on the side of her neck.  she took my driver’s license.

“it’s a really bad picture,”  i said.

she handed it back without looking at me.  i don’t think it’s THAT bad of a picture.

i was in calabasas.  rumor has it that way up in the mountains, at the highest tier towards heaven, britney spears has a mansion.  and so does michael jackson’s mom.

i met f2fb #146 candice appleton vaugh at a wedding.  it was the wedding of some people i didn’t know so i was free to make new friends without any reservations or preconceptions.  i immediately liked her and we spent most of the weekend together through rehearsal dinner, pre-wedding receptions, the wedding itself, the reception, the post-wedding breakfast.  she is intelligent without being pedantic, empathic without being intrusive and beautiful without the arrogance that occasionally infects beauty.  after the wedding, she went back to her home in calabasas.  i went back to winnetka.  we were facebook friends who occasionally posted on each other’s walls.  but when was i honestly ever to meet her again?

on this trip to california, i thought maybe i’d get to see britney if i was in calabasas.  but alas, no.  most of the mountain community’s homes are in gated areas and candice’s home is no different.  but it’s no tmz.com, no britney, no neverland.  her house is beautiful but her focus is on raising her two daughters to be polite, well mannered, responsible women.  which candice does by reminding her daughters at every moment that in every situation there are choices.  it is how i tried to raise joseph and eastman.

the family served a dinner of ribs, corn, salad and candice’s homemade cookies.  they have two dogs, one of whom welcomed me by laying on my feet–the other is a recently adopted rescue dog who has a habit of finding lightbulbs and trying to eat them.  after dinner, the girls put on a play for everybody in their playroom.  i was made aware that beauty does not come from the exterior of things, it comes from the conscious choices we make.  as i left the home, the two daughters jordan and mackenzie–dressed as sleeping beauty and tinkerbell respectively, waved their tiny magic wands and blessed my journey.

then i went to my safe place in california, the home where i cannot have anxiety attacks, the place from which i adventure–

i cannot have an anxiety attack in room 212. that would be impossible because it's a safe place.

 

then i have to take william clark (f2fb #60) to manhattan beach to meet my facebook friend cathy who is training in reiki, a japanese form of healing.

mr. clark believes sometimes we should stop and hang out, especially at beaches

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