ugh ack yark...i am still sick. i have, for all intents and purposes, lost my voice. for over a week. no - two weeks. and whenever i do try to talk, i am consumed by bouts of nasty coughing. yes, it is my body saying what my mind refused to think. yes, it is also the nasty vent over my desk at work that spews dust and debris all day. yes, it is a lesson in learning to say less, and make my words count. as you know, i can verbally vomit for hours...having worked in radio for so long taught me, the shy one in school, how to yabber yabber for hours at a time about things and nothings. give me a topic at random, and i can expound upon it til you wish you'd never brought it up. if you've ever listened to, or watched sports, you know there's usually 2 announcers minimum. what you may not realize is that they have 2 completely different jobs. one is the play-by-play guy who describes the action on the field...just the facts, ma'am...Brindamour takes it past the blue line, shoots SCORES! the other guy is the color commentary person. he or she fills in the interesting tidbits and stats. listen for it. i have been reduced to play-by-play. and for a person with such flair for drama and storytelling, this is not acceptable. it is an outrage. and also some pretty savvy thinking on God's part. right in the middle of a huge life decision BAM i'm rendered speechless. no endless conversations wondering am i doing the right thing, blah blah blah. just time to think things through. time to settle into myself a bit and just be quiet. literally. though inside...the creative blender is set on high. i need to find my new space and just be done with this. that is the hardest part. it's like being in Dr. DiCosimo's waiting room with 6 other scared kids, listening to some poor 5 year old screaming in the exam room. the anticipation brings the beads of sweat up. and all the 2nd and 3rd thoughts. to be able to just put 1 foot in front of the other and keep on - that would be most excellent. but i have been given close-up hindsight on this one...rather than waiting years to see how some incredible and seemingly unrelated events all lined up like Jupiter's moons, i can clearly see things in motion now, and things that transpired and aligned within the past month. and i am humbly grateful. i just wish i could verbally express myself. i even tried a neti pot today, which is like medically waterboarding yourself. i must be doing something wrong, and will watch the youtube videos again, despite feeling a bit queasy after. i had such a relaxing weekend, going to the Arts & Crafts festival yesterday and seeing my angelfriend. yes i bought. a lot. sort of. and today i created the coziest of nooks on my balcony, shaded by a massive maple tree. i sat out there and read for some time, dozed a bit, read some more. i am anxious to begin my next phase of life, and wish my house would come to me. i will need all your good thoughts, prayers, vibes, and whatever goodness you can send. it will be a miracle, i can tell you that much. so. i have always known that i was raised a bit shaky. my mom thinks a bit differently than some. and for the past 2 weeks so has been price-shopping for her funeral. she is not sick. just planning ahead. and i know there is no way around the topic, and she has been so excited to find out that one place is much less expensive, and has a better selection of caskets ("more choices that are feminine"). we have conversations that, to the outsider, (oh hell - even to me) would seem bizarrre. but i love my mother, and go along with it. she has it all written down and has given me copies, since i am the executrix of her will, should she outlive my stepfather. (executrix sounds so bad and dirty). now she can, well, rest in peace, knowing that she has the details taken care of. now she wants me to go shop for my funeral arrangements "because you never know, and besides, I've already pre-shopped for you." i am glad i have lost my voice at times. so i assured her i would on our next mother/daughter day. my arrangements are pretty simple: donate any organs that aren't too run down and decrepid. cremate the rest. sprinkle the ashes in a secret location. my angelfriend Georgia will be in charge of all my art and art supplies, and I have earmarked endowments for some organizations close to my heart. i am worth much more dead than alive. and the thing of it is, throughout all these conversations with mom, it's just these matter-of-fact things, as if she found a new dress on sale at Macy's, rather than a pretty blue casket that is very feminine. it just cracks me up and makes me glad to be who i am. my brother has promised to begin work on a play with me. we have these characters that we do - Sylvia Plotnick & Trudi. (Trudi doesn't have a last name). and i've dreamed of doing a show with just Sylvia & Trudi. for a long time. and my brother is an actor, producer, director, extraordinaire. and he owes me, i tell you, for not killing him when we were younger. though we both made a good try for mutual annihilation...each wanting to be an only child. ha! the joke was on us, bro, eh? but anyway, it would be a great show, if we could get it done. and most of it could pretty much be improv, because we know Sylvia & Trudi intimately after all these years. and they are based on real people that we knew somewhat well. so i think if he is reading this, he damn well better make some time in his busy schedule to do this or i will replace him with an understudy. i mean, time's ticking, and according to mom No One Knows The Hour That The Lord Will Come For Them. for shame. i'm off to read a new book, "States" by Jennifer Pashley who I re-met yesterday at the Arts & Crafts festival. And thank you, amazing John Chang, for not only remembering me from NYC, but bringing the very print I talked to you about AND framed it for me. you have touched me.