Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Yes, it’s a check-in now.

A check-in. Or a chicken, if you prefer.

Anyway, the Friday RoundUp is no more, except that it’s really the exact same thing only with a chicken. Never mind, it’s too hard to explain. People weighed in, mostly by email, and nobody likes rounding up. Checking in it is.

Okay, on to the hard stuff of this week. And then the good stuff.

The hard stuff

Goodbye, again.

I went to see Nick Cave Monday night. Keep in mind that it’s been a looooooong time since I saw any sort of live music that wasn’t mantras or chanting or something.

In fact, the last time it wasn’t, I was in the lesbian bar in Tel Aviv because my friend who killed himself was playing there. Four years ago, maybe. Seeing Nick Cave and not being able to tell him about it is one of the six hundred things each week that pisses me off about my friend being dead.

Anyway, it’s been a while. I don’t go out. It’s not part of my life. But I couldn’t not go to Nick Cave because it’s kind of like, hey, seeing Nick Cave is one of the privileges of being alive.

If my friend were alive and he found out Nick Cave was coming to town and I wasn’t going to see him, he’d drag me there. And then make me tea and play mantras and stuff.

Right now, in this moment, I am alive and I’m going to get up and do something that the living do. It was a good show. It’s still hard, though.

Goodbye, hearing.

The opening act was so loud that I put my head in my gentleman friend’s lap and cried until it was over. And not from the sadness. From the pain. From the brutal ear-thrashing violence of the volume.

Nick was loud too. Amazing, but loud. And thump-ey.

I can still feel the vibrating, five days later. So now I have to stop making fun of my gentleman friend, who spent his fabulously troubled youth at punk rock concerts, for being half-deaf and requiring me to shout at him.

The good stuff

This blog has fans and stuff.

So whatever, I’ve never gotten fansocks or anything, but some of the smart, interesting, oddball people who read this blog have been sending me presents.

Douglas Buchanan, who is 79 and quite possibly the coolest person in the entire world, sends me and Selma neat little things.

He also begins his messages with “To Havi the Happy and Selma Anas Flava Superba, Greetings” and ends with “Blessings and quacks”. Oh, the joy of communicating with the wonderful, wonderful Douglas.

I wish each and every one of you a correspondent who is half as interesting and entertaining.

Then Tim Brownson over at A daring adventure sent me a copy of his book. Which has an entire duck-related chapter! With a sweet little note. What a lovely thing to do.

Speaking of lovely things to do, how kooky is this?

Ohmygod this is so crazy and cool.

So you remember how obsessive I became about the cafe in Vancouver where I had a glorrrrious day … and how happy I was when Mario, the owner of said cafe, sang me a little song about milk?

Because that was so, so great.

Well, Pace and Kyeli — two readers of this very blog — were inspired to um, take action:

Havi! We sang you a song about milk! It’s to the tune of “Drink!” by They
Might Be Giants. Have a glorrrrrrrrious day!

That’s right. They sang me a song about milk. A very nice song.

You should listen to it. You cannot not have a glorrrrious day while listening to this song.

There’s really nothing I can say after that.

Sure, lots of wonderful things happened this week.

My clients are having huge, awe-inspiring breakthroughs.

My acupuncturist does witchy poking magic that rocks my world.

My gentleman friend is the sweetest, kindest, goofiest, funniest, most loving, accepting, surprising person in the entire world and he makes me pesto fettuccine that is ridiculously fantastic. Plus he doesn’t even complain when I sing the egg song every single morning.

But whatever, these girls sang me a song about milk. And recorded it. And sent it to me.

That kind of makes anything else that happened this week fade in comparison, you know?

That’s it for me ….

And yes, absolutely join in my Friday ritual if you feel like it and/or there’s something you just want to say out loud too.

Yeah? What was something hard and/or good that happened in your week?

And, as always have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

The Fluent Self