lashes – Tania Thomas Author & Speaker

I was intending to write about the grief of distancing but I think we have had enough of the sadness that is surrounding these current times. The grief aspect is something I am well tuned into but that will be for another place in another time. I believe that laughter is the better option to get us through. In my connections to the spirit side this past few weeks I have met with great resistance to my questions about how long this may last. I have finally come to the understanding that this is another of the lessons that they can only be witness to yet the experience is ours alone. They are here for us only to bring comfort but beyond this, we are to learn to be better humans. It’s really just that simple. We come out of this better humans. We find more consideration for the lives around us, we put more thought into how they may feel and we understand individual fears in a way we couldn’t before. And we learn to roll with the punches in the very best way we can. I choose to laugh as I roll. I invite you to do the same.

Today I spent twenty minutes of my life admonishing my spouse for his incorrect pairing of chips and dips. I caught him dipping MY Tostitos Scoops into the Helluva Good Dip. He still seems to be struggling with the logic that HIS Ruffles goes with Helluva. And salsa and cheese goes with MY scoops. He is banned from all pairings from this moment forward.

Last night he leaned in for a kiss and I screeched “Social distancing!!” without thinking and then coughed for good measure. He hasn’t tried since and my growing list of things that annoy me pretty much assures I won’t feel his lips on mine again for a decade (unless of course I am forced to attempt resuscitation due to unexpected accidents that might include a flying salsa jar.)

I am the very definition of introvert and despite that today I messaged my best pal that I was almost prepared to risk arrest just to run up to people outside and touch them. Appropriately of course. But then, I suppose being touched by a complete stranger might be considered inappropriate. Another month of social isolation and we might just find out for sure…

So how is your social isolation going? Mine’s going wonderful as you can see.

I’ve eaten about four hundred mini eggs, my bra isn’t fitting properly and my eyelashes have fallen off. I’ve discovered a taste for wine where a taste for wine never did exist before this and I’ve cooked everything I learned to cook in my first 40 years of life. The remaining dog in our home is eyeing me suspiciously because I am here ALL of the time now and I swear he is now wondering if my guest status has changed to permanent resident. He isn’t liking this much because I am the “snack limiter” of the family. If I am making a sandwich for lunch, the other half always orders two and I immediately go into my rant about the second one is for the dog. My husband argues with me every single time this happens and as I make the second one I mutter about him thinking I must be stupid. So when he does in fact attempt to give the dog the second one, the dog stares at me in anticipation of my certain meltdown. Our much loved Molly was 45 pounds overweight the week before we lost her. Hubby says it was all muscle and I am mean. The dog just looks at me like he can’t wait for me to pack and fly away again.

So in my desire to find some balance….

I’ve made several attempts at solitude and mediation. I get all comfortable, feet flat to the floor, eyes closed and palms up to receive all that spirit can provide me. I fail the minute I hear a voice in the parking lot outside of my window and jump up to look in my excitement of another human being within twenty feet of me. The picture I chose for the blog is a fairly true representation of what they see when I pull the curtains back. Many haven’t been back since. I have no idea why, I am clearly just trying to be friendly. On this note, grandparents please stop before you lean into the window separating you from your grand babies..because you just can’t be sure that this isn’t what they see. It’s cute when they do it….us not so much. Stop and think before you press your wrinkles people. Therapy is going to be hard to find and expensive once this is all said and done. Plan ahead and stay three inches from the glass please.

I’ve watched every episode of nearly every Netflix series made since 2015. With the exception of the guy that plays with big cats. His face annoys me and therefore I shall not delve into any episode that features it, so please stop telling me I should. It is not happening. The man has a face that only his mother could love.

This morning I actually woke to fantasies about learning to bake. Things are bad when I start considering this. To save myself from attempting butter tarts I went for a walk instead in the graveyard, made friends with a squirrel and talked him into posing for me. The photo below. I think he resembles a furry Burt Reynolds. Let me know what you think. On my next visit I might take him a sandwich. 😉

Here’s the disclaimer part:

In no way do my musings represent a lack of understanding of the gravity of our current world situation. I continue to daily send my best energy and love to all that are directly and indirectly affected by this nasty virus. My heart hurts with all those that have lost their lives to this or have a loved one struggling to breath. What I have learned is that often times our best way forward is to find the human parts to this, the “first world” problems that exist in this for us all and I try to create an atmosphere a little lighter than the one we see each hour over social media. Humor is the antidote to the fear and the anxiety. If I can make you laugh for a moment it is a moment not feeding the monster that is holding us hostage. Virus’s are intuitively based, just as we are. They naturally gravitate to fear energy because in fear we become less strong . So by laughing in the face of it can change its direction. So let’s find the lighter side of the dark today. And lets remember to thank our front line workers please. Our coffee servers, our delivery drivers, our bus drivers, our essential customer service workers, our emergency services, our nurses, our social workers and mental health workers, our doctors and every single damn person that is working hard in our hospitals right now.

I don’t know about the rest of you but this introvert is actually slowly losing her mind. If I am not soon permitted to touch another human being I might just go mad. I mean touch in the non weirdest of ways, but you have been warned that I may become overly excited like a new puppy and just leap on anyone that happens to pass by once quarantine is lifted. Please refrain from calling security. They already have me penciled in for line tipping. Kinda like cow tipping without the cow.

So let’s talk about that first.

I want to talk about the red lines that now separate me from the shopper ahead and behind me. Firstly, I have vertigo in every moment of every day, so trying to keep my size 12 canoes on my side of said red line is becoming a challenge. And quite frankly I am starting to take offence to being loudly admonished by the security who suddenly beams up from God knows where when I tip forward and have to move a big toe to stop from taking a header into the gum display.

`Dear Security personnel..I do appreciate your being there by the way. Your finding your way into my blog is strictly for the humor portion. Thank you for keeping us safe.`

Secondly, can someone please help me to understand this six feet apart theory when the lady still shopping just came up the aisle behind me and now must cross directly in front of me and directly behind the person ahead of me. I don’t see security diving on her do I? I suppose this suggests that scientifically speaking moving targets don’t count in the distance criteria. I can hear the virus now. “I don’t have the energy to chase that one, go for the one that just tipped over the red line. Security just terrified her into hold pose until the bagging area is clear.”

So today I set fire to my bangs. I had been standing in the bathroom staring forlornly at my hair and thinking it was beginning to resemble a horses tail that hadn’t been brushed in a decade and wondering how best to fix this. If I have learned one thing over the years it’s to never put it out there to the universe that something might need to go. I wandered out to the balcony and lit a cigarette with the BBQ lighter.

Don’t judge and yes I know about the coronavirus and smoking…I have heard it a thousand times now, and let me assure you the threat of smoking is no match for the threat of me not smoking for my beloved husband. Lets focus on keeping him safe too OK?

It didn’t occur to me that my horses tail wasn’t secured and poof…took care of the bangs pretty darned fast. Smelled awful but on the bright side, I think I might actually be responsible for a new hair craze ~It’s sassy, it’s smoldering, it’s the new “Singed Fringe”~

You read it here first folks. Coming to a salon near you soon. Or not soon. Maybe June. Maybe October. No one knows for sure.

Now let’s talk about the first world problems of this forced isolation. I am three weeks late for the eyelash fill. After the singe fringe affair I ran to the bathroom once again to douse the flames under the bathroom sink. That’s hard by the way. I don’t know who designed this but it’s incredibly difficult to get your head sideways under that tap. We should consider this if my new hair craze takes hold. (Before someone says it..my kitchen sink was full of yesterdays dishes because well, whose gonna visit and who cares?) As I wrangled my face out of the water stream I stood up and pushed back the remainder of the bangs and noticed the lashes. On the left eye exists approximately 20 lush and long. On the right exists maybe four thin and barren and it’s a confusing look to be certain. Only now do I start to panic about burning my bangs off. Thank the good Lord above for sunglasses, because I just cannot imagine the looks should I purchase magnetic ones in this current climate of essentials only.

“OMG there was a women today at Shoppers purchasing eyelashes!! I am sure she’s the same one that line tips, I’ve heard security talk about her. Hmmph. And I’ve heard that she also goes out for walks in the park and that’s not social distancing!”

OK so lets talk about that. If memory serves me correct there was not any mention by our PM here in Canada of enacting martial law just yet. A child that belongs to me personally was recently taken to task for publicly announcing a stroll through a graveyard for heaven sake. A graveyard that housed the dead from like three centuries ago so the chances of them getting bus loads of living visitors are certainly slim at best. She allowed her children the opportunity to run in a spot that was free of any danger of being subject to the virus, yet was belittled of her parenting skills and her “choice” to put others in danger. You’ll forgive me but I doubt the dead have concern about this danger. How about we stop that sort of silliness and stop it soon. Giving ourselves and our kids fresh air in these trying times is not irresponsible if we are alert and aware of our surroundings and those that are taking in the air with us. I have seen parents with small kids moving around the grocery stores and no one says a word about that. Why? Because it’s essential? So is fresh air and sunshine. And running and laughing. And being a kid in times that are difficult for them to understand. If the time comes that we must be in forced quarantine it will be much harder. So lets stop policing parents who are just trying to give their kids that tiny bit of space allowed in this new world of distance. OK that was the serious try to be a good neighbor paragraph. Onward….

Let’s talk about the anxiety of this. Every day we are subject to new and conflicting information. Stopped taking your Ibuprofen and now you can’t get out of bed without a forklift? After four days of being subject to no less than 70 inbox warnings about my muscle and joint choice of drugs I was overjoyed to discover ( because I went looking) that these claims are unfounded. Surprise!! I hope you all realize that I may have noticed my eyelash dilemma sooner had I actually been able to turn my head instead of it being caught in a torticollis ( google that) because I had finally been convinced that my Advil would take me out. It feels good to move my head again, eyelashes or not.

And the symptoms keep changing on us. If that doesn’t send your anxiety skyrocketing I don’t know what will. First it was plugged nose with no running, now its running nose with no plugging. Sore throat, maybe not a sore throat. Then it was high fever now intermittent fever, mild headache to your head might blast off migraine style. And a dry cough. Good God…small wonder we are terrified to walk in a cemetery with 1400 dead people in case they catch it. This week alone I have diagnosed myself twelve times because I have a drippy allergy nose, a headache from an unnecessary torticollis ( google it) a sore throat from talking for 8 hours a day ( yes work goes on via phone), a dry cough from the sore throat from talking for 8 hours ( and smoking but we’re not judging) and hot-flashes from menopause. Everything that is normal is a symptom and it’s scary. And I get it, trust me I do get it. We truly are all in this together and it helps to understand that especially now. The wording from some health networks to “act like you have the virus” while logical is also making us crazy. But my losing my ever loving mind mid hot flash today only to discover it would pass with the removal of all clothing really wasn’t good for the mental health after all. Or the mental health of the unfortunate people in the parking lot just outside of my open window. I truly wonder how many women of my age have considered calling or have called the fine nurses of Tele-Health over a typical hormone surge.

Oh..to catch you all up on the saga of Molly the drama dog, her surgery recovery went well but the 3 am drama howls continued from the couch of which she can now jump onto with no issue but the drama ensued on attempting to get down. So I fixed that problem by laying the vacuum cleaner on the couch. She hates it. No 3 am whining. I may go into pet therapy next. Call me. For anyone wondering who Molly the drama dog is refer to the blog previous to this one.

Wash your hands. Stay off the playground equipment. The dead are dead, they can’t catch it or give it to you so don’t be ridiculous and go for a walk giving wide berth to any other living beings that are taking in the same air. Try not to take every child you birthed into the grocery store if you can. First of all you aren’t all gonna fit behind the red line. Secondly, they run more risk of this virus from touching and feeling and running than they do on a nice stroll with the dead people. Logic people. Logic. No judging here, sometimes you have no other choice, but if a choice exists make it the choice to leave them at home instead of trying to keep little fingers that have picked up every sugary cereal option out of little faces. Because if you are a parent you know it doesn’t matter how many eyes you think you have in the back of your head, one of them is going to stick a finger up their nose and then brush it on a sibling.

Stay safe, stay calm, keep laughing, sing loudly, wash your hands ( said it again) thank those that are working for us right now, stop beating each other up for being human, and remember that you are human too and subject to the same judgement.

We don’t “got this” unless we “get this” together.

I think I have forgotten how to put makeup on. Or pants. I haven’t seen my bra in two weeks. It’s likely in the pile of laundry marked “Who cares, where am I going that needs clothes anyway?”

Or eyelashes…..

Or bangs…

In love, in light, in isolation.

Tania.

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: