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enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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A slow road to healing.

Well hello!

I'm back.

I'm still not doing well, but I'm taking charge. Mentally, at least.

I went to the doc and although I have "phlegm in my ear and my lungs are raspy..." he's not the type to give antibiotics. So this is going to be self-limiting.

I asked him what to do about the fact that I am having trouble breathing deeply. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Take a puff of your inhaler." (He then gave me a prescription.) I suppose he was right - these things one usually needs to "wait out," particularly when one is healthy.)

He then said, however, wryly, "I suppose that everyone told you that you have swine flu."

Actually, no. I hadn't thought of it. And none of my friends are that stupid, thank you. :)

I feel mostly weak and tired. Fortunately the coughing is getting to be less frequent. My ears are sore and blocked, but at least I feel better than I did on Sunday. SUnday, I couldn't breathe. DO you know what's really disturbing though? When I lean forward there is pressure on my right eye so that it feels like it might explode! Must be related to the right ear/sinus. Weird!

I was rather stupid this afternoon as instead of resting as I ought, I did some cleaning. I needed - mentally, at least - to get started on my apartment. It still feels like an overwhelming job, but a small corner is looking more as I want it to. I know that this is the strategy to getting things done - i.e. to start, and eventually each little bit will add up to a whole lot - but I'm still impatient.

I suppose I will need to just get over it.

Did I tell you about what happened when I bought my dress in Florence (the one I'm going to wear to the garden party)?

I had been in the store a few days before with Joan to try the dress on and the salesgirl had been quite nice at the time.

This time, there was a slightly older woman there (about my age, but Italians start to not age well after about 35, I think because of the tanning that they do). She was still attractive, but she was also apparently quite bitter. It was clear that she did not like anglo tourists.

So I decided to try on both the dress and the size down, since the bust had been loose in the dress that I eventually bought (I will need a padded bra or some slight tailoring).

I tried on the smaller size and by then the nicer salesgirl had come around. The dress was the perfect fit, only I knew that I would be uncomfortable without some extra room in the bottom. The younger, pleasanter salesgirl argued that the dress was perfect.

But then the nice girl departed and the older salesgirl was left looking at me sourly. She grabbed my ass! Yes! And she said, "I think this is very vulgar." (I think she meant that the dress was too small there when I moved.)

So I said, "Uh...I agree. I am not intending to buy the 38. I'm going to buy the 40."

"Oh."

So then I asked her about the jacket, because I wanted the jacket to go with the dress.

Apparently, there were no jackets about in my size. So I asked her for an alternative. And in that Italian way she pulled out the perfect scarf/shawl. Really, it is great. She said, "Why don't you wear this in the Italian way?" as she tied it around my shoulders. It looked great. Seeing that I liked it, she softened. And then she said...

"You are young and beautiful. The jacket is too old for you. The scarf for evening is better. The rest of the time you leave it off."

And here's the kicker...

"Just DON'T...DON'T get with an Italian man!!!!"

I told Marco the story the next day, at lunch. He looked at me without blinking. "She had a problem with her boyfriend that morning!"

(I didn't mention to either that at this point I have had my fill of Italian men...and no thank you.)

Yes! It's a laugh a minute, my life.


I will tell you that I am sorrowful today.

I'm sorrowful today as I was imagining in future M. finding someone else. One always does that. And it always hurts.

I should instead imagine myself finding someone great. I never think that way. It always seems like the end and that I will always lose. In these matters, I always think about the negative.

For a lot of reasons, though, it is more likely that I will find someone than that he will find someone. He meets a lot of people, but these are usually wealthy couples from California.

He's also older, less flexible, less well-off, and in poorer health.

But then again, I'm more gloomy. :)

I just don't want to feel one day as though I could have done something to shape my life differently and didn't. I don't want to live with fear.

Speaking of fear, I was thinking about the Air France disaster. Although it is horrible, there are many horrible ways to die that happen to people every day. I mean, hundreds of people die in horrible, unpredictable ways every day. Just last night, a young woman and her baby died in a fire in a town near to here. Just think: One minute you're making dinner and putting your baby to sleep; the next minute you're in a fire. Horrible.

I think I have lost my fear of flying. I think it's simply best to stop thinking about dying. It will eventuate one day. And when it happens might be quite random.

Actually, I haven't felt at all anxious lately. That's an improvement. I'm not sure if heartbroken is better, but it seems slightly more hopeful.

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5:04 p.m. - 2009-06-02

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