Monday 1 February 2010

So is it the full moon, or what?

Generally speaking, I'm a fairly reliable person. I go to bed at a reasonable hour, try to eat green leafy veggies, drink lots of water, and not trash-talk to many people. It's a pretty stable, yet fun life.

Which is why it's been so weird that it's all gone completely off kilter since Wednesday. The Fab man's favorite cousin, who was only 46 years old, slipped into a coma and wasn't expected to make it. After long discussions and heart to hearts, the adorable husband opted NOT to go to Mexico City and say goodbye.

Enter newsletter Thursday. That's the day I send out "Cozumel 4 You" and there's no telling what can happen. At times it's the easiest send in the world, and other weeks I'm crying in frustration, still in my PJs at 3 p.m. Ironically enough, this week was easy, in fact, almost too easy. It made me question myself, wondering what I missed. Anyhow after that my friend, Bianca and her mother wanted to take me out to lunch for my birthday (it was last week, you missed it!) We go to Guido's. I love Guido's; they're right on the waterfront, they have a brick oven and make some really good calzones and pizzas. I have a spinach and salmon carpachio, garlic bread and a green salad.

Later in the day, our dearest friends come into town, and they're tired but hungry. "Where would you like to eat,?" I ask. "Well, Guido's is yummy and fast..." Upon arrival I'm giving the very suprised waiter the stink eye so he doesn't tell everyone that I was there a mere 3 hours ago. What do I eat? spinach and salmon carpacho, garlic bread and a green salad.

Friday my father and his wife arrive on a cruise ship. This has been a much awaited event and the Fabster and I have done our best to clear our schedules for the entire day. We shop we visit the other side of the island, we're having a great time, until Fab's cell phone rings....

Fabian's much beloved cousin has died, which in itself is horribly upsetting and sad, however, the other 25 phone calls from friends and family urging him to "come home" for the funeral are just nerve-wracking. Adorable husband is doing his best to make small, pleasant chatter with his father in law, in between hysterical calls from bereaved loved ones, to the point where we finally walked down to the corner for ice cream, while Fabs frantically tried to get on the next plane to D.F. The day culminated in me dropping my father, and his very understanding wife off at the cruise ship pier, turning around, collecting husband and dropping him off at the ferry, all within the same hour.

Saturday was uneventful, execpt for the unaccustomed hangover from the self-medication of liberal amounts of red wine after yesterday's trauma.

Sunday I planned on going to an additional yoga class, since I missed Friday's. My friend Desiree asked if I would pick her up since her scooter was acting funny. Desiree lives right on 5th Av, and there was a funeral blocking the traffic, so we actually arrived at the yoga studio about 10 minutes late. This actually didn't matter, as there was, in fact, no yoga class. We return to my green 80's Ford Escort station wagon, only to discover that the Mimi-mobile won't start. Not only that, but the two of us, both college graduates are incapable of getting the hood open, since something is stuck.

Later that day, I take the Snoopy-mobile, Fab's beloved 1972 VW thing all the way out halfway across the island. That wasn't an issue at all, until it was time to come home, and it started to rain.

The Fabster, after the last re-paint of the car, had never gotten around to re-installing the windshield wipers (they're a seperate stand-alone motor attached to the windshield) I survive "Death Ride 2010" by using my arm as sort of a human wiper blade at periodic intervals as I drive home.

Upon arrival, I'm walking up the stairs, at a reasonable pace, not carrying anything, and my back makes this horrible pop. I now fully understand the meaning of "throwing your back out," since I have apparently lost a very important part.

Today I've been rolling around with a tennis ball under my back, trying to get the green car started (jumper cables: fail) stuck at home (rain again) and to top it off, the Fabster is staying a "few more days" in D.F. Luckilly, I'm so doped up because of the back that I can only really process the "wow, this is weird," aspect of it all.

I will, however, be going to bed early and praying for an end to all of this....