My husband Michael and I have been watching Deadwood, which was considered shocking when it debuted in 2004 for its extremely profane language. I assumed the language wouldn’t be shocking now but, much to my amazement, it still is.
Why is the language shocking to me? I think it’s because of the shocking anger and cruelty of several of the main characters. Somehow, despite all the anger and cruelty around us, it’s still shocking.
While I work towards acceptance and peace of mind, I’m grateful I still find some things shocking — shocked seems better than numb.
Do you see anything shocking in today’s blog post?
Okay, you bitches, here’s Randy Rainbow and his latest masterpiece about shocking behaviors in the USA House of Representatives.
Thanks to all who helped me create this shocking post, including YOU.
I want to tell about something beautiful that happened yesterday, when I went to a doctor’s appointment at one Boston hospital and then went to another Boston hospital for the first time since February to retrieve some beautiful items from my office and to see some beautiful co-workers. The main beautiful item I wanted to retrieve from my office was a collection of beautiful questions a beautiful person had put together for my Coping and Healing groups. After I got back to my beautiful home, I realized that the beautiful bag I had placed my beautiful items in had a big, beautiful hole in it, and that beautiful collection of questions was gone.
Then, I had a beautiful decision to make: should I take up more time during my beautiful vacation to look for those beautiful questions or just beautifully accept that my time with them was over?
I called the beautiful Lost and Found department of the big beautiful hospital, remembering that I had lost several beautiful items over the years (including my favorite beautiful red jacket) that had never been found. I struggled to come up with a beautiful description of the lost item: “It’s a collection of small rectangles with questions on them, held together with a silver ring.” The beautiful person on the phone said, “Wait a minute” and then returned with this answer, “Nothing like that has been turned in.” I asked, “Should I call again tomorrow?” and the beautiful person said, “Sure.”
Then, I spent more beautiful minutes trying to decide what to do next. I really didn’t want to get back into my beautiful car and drive in lots of beautiful traffic to retrace my steps. My beautiful husband could tell that I was very sad that I had lost those beautiful questions. He said, “Maybe it will turn up.” I told my beautiful son, who was ready to go on a beautiful walk with me, “I’m going back to try to find what I lost.”
When I got into my beautiful car, I realized that my beautiful Scream mask was also missing. I had put that beautiful mask in the beautiful bag with the big beautiful hole when beautiful people at the beautiful hospitals had told me I needed to wear the beautiful masks they were providing to their beautiful patients to keep them beautifully safe during this very unbeautiful pandemic.
When I parked my beautiful yellow car in the same beautiful place near a beautiful church in beautiful Brookline, Massachusetts, I saw my beautiful Scream mask on the ground, almost immediately. Then, I had beautiful hopes that I would find my beautiful collection of beautiful questions.
I retraced my steps with beautiful accuracy, looking everywhere for the collection of beautiful questions. I went back to the beautiful hospital where I work, returned to my beautiful office, took more beautiful photos, retrieved more beautiful items from my office, and met more beautiful co-workers. I talked to several beautiful people who I thought might be able to help me in my beautiful search, trying to share more beautiful descriptions of what I had lost. At one point, I said, “It’s a ring – no, not a jewelry ring, but a big silver ring holding together rectangles that have questions on them.” Everybody tried their beautiful best to understand my stumbling attempts to describe what I had lost, but nobody had seen or could find my beautiful questions. Knowing I had searched everywhere, I decided that some beautiful person had probably picked up the questions and might put them to beautiful use.
On my beautiful walk back to my beautiful car, I had beautiful thoughts about how we all deal with loss. Then, much to my beautiful surprise, I saw what I was seeking, as plain as the beautiful day, lying on a beautiful spot on the beautiful sidewalk where lots of beautiful people were walking. I knew that it had NOT been there when I had walked by that same beautiful spot before. I picked up the Lost and Found item with beautiful speed, placed it on a beautiful wall, and took this beautiful photo:
I am doing my beautiful best to follow the beautiful directions on that beautiful card: “Tell about something beautiful.”