heartbreaker's wildflowers

I was supposed to see the movie on Wednesday, with Carolyn.

The film did not arrive in time, so we had 90 minutes to wait.

What to do now?

She opted for dinner and, hopefully, the 7:30 pm show. 

I stayed for the sun's dramatic exit from the skies - absolutely gorgeous  - then caught the scheduled Thrills & Chills Surprise.

 

I was back the next evening, though, to catch the missed film, "Tom Petty, Somewhere You Feel Free".

The biopic had been pieced together from video footage from 1993 to 1995, during the creation of his 1994 album, "Wildflowers".

It was released in early November of that year, after his 44th birthday.

This biopic was released on what would have been his 71st birthday, had not a mixture of incompatible medicines cut short his life.

I have a cousin, Valerie, who died of that very thing almost a decade ago.

The documentary had obviously been lovingly put together from all the bits and pieces of home video, as well as a few new bits of commemtary from former band members and family and colleagues.

What it showed was a man going through a period of great change.

He had been making music with the same people for more than two decades and one of the relationships had become fractious.

He had been married to Jane for more than two decades, the children were nearly grown, and that relationship had shifted, more for the worse than the better.

This solo album served as the sounding board for him to wrap his head around the break-up of the band and the break-up of his marriage.

Therapy through music: that's a loss adjustment concept I know well.

He worked with a different producer than the one used on the albums with the band... and that was good.

He worked with different musicians than the ones he'd toured with for so many years... and that was good.

He wrote songs that were different in sound and tone than those he'd written for the band... and that was good.

He embraced the process of change through writing... as I have done for more than a decade now... and that allowed him to heal and to determine a new path.

 

I was surprised how many songs I knew from "Wildflowers".

I found myself singing along, sans voice, over and over again.

Still, that was not an album I'd ever owned.

I don't know, maybe it was because his music was all over the airwaves so I never felt the need to actually purchase any.

I saw him once in concert, at the 91X Fest in San Diego in 1983.

It was an all-day event, featuring six bands with him as the highlighter.

Even The Stray Cats took second billing to Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers!

What a magnificent show, with all types of folks coming out for the music and the sun and the joy of being young!

I was a month away from being a quarter of a century and out there with friends.

Were they stationed at NSGA, Imperial Beach, like I was?

Most likely, right?

Even the guy's mustache was regulation trim!

And that short girl, with the huge earrings, the lopsided smile, and those curved eyebrows?

That's me, captured by a news reporter on the site, looking for sound bites and commentary.

So, when he'd asked if the new wave look was a requirement to be a 91X fan, I'd spoken up, as I always did.

"You can be part of the new music scene without shaving your head."

Check out the clip and let me know if I'm wrong, ok?

After all, the young woman sure does look like I did, and she sure did say something I would have said, but that's been more than half my life ago.

What's that saying about waterfowl?

If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck...

yeah, that's all I'm saying.

(smile!)

more than a quarter century ago

Last night was a dark and stormy night... so I started working on straightening up here.

After all, the house has six closets - SIX!!! - and I have something in each one.

Rather ridiculous, right?

At least I emptied my attic years ago.

This mess came from the Ocean Room closet's top shelf.

The four expandable file folders contained graphs and charts and overhead drawings and reference papers and notes from long-ago research meetings with my long-dead major professor, Leo Mandelkern, at FSU.

My doctorate was awarded in 1996.

That makes my PhD in analytical chemistry 25 years old.

Why do I still have this stuff?

The death of my middle brother has impressed upon me once more the need to get rid of things that no longer are used or have meaning to me.

Yes, I go on these sprees with every death of one I love.

Yes, I still have an incredible amount of material possessions, but I'm whittling away at that volume and mass.

All one has to do is look at my recycling bin to see progress.

I can appreciate Ronnie's lack of regard for material things; cleaning up his camp site behind the Marathon gas station probably only took about an hour.

I say "probably" because I don't know who did it, but I'm grateful they did.

What will become of my vase from Panama or my plastic cherry blossoms from Okinawa? What of all the art I  have on my walls, of the collection of wooden fish in the dining room, of the music CDs and movie DVDs and Grandmama's teapots? 

I well remember the monumental task of clearing out Mother Pat's condo in 2007.

She, like me, lived alone, so her residence had to be completely emptied after she died; that meant all the closets, stuffed full, had to be cleared out; all the drawers and shelves and cabinets had to become barren; the basement of old furniture and boxes had to be brought up and removed; all the bedding and linens and clothes needed new homes.

What an ordeal, and what squabbling that caused about division of her goods.

Ronnie didn't leave behind any such issues, as he left nothing.

I've already marked a few items with names of designated new owners, but I still have quite a few that are not yet.

My goal is to get that completed before my next birthday.

Yes, that's fairly ambitious, but absolutely doable.

I'm going to draw inspiration from the guy in the bandanna.

In the 1980's, the Hawaiian was part of a native male hula-dancing group gaining prominence.

He got the group back together, along with some young blood, too, and they trained for the Merrie Monarch Festival, competed in the group hula dances... and won!

That was in 2005, and I just watched it.

It reminded me of the Aloha Festival I attended in Las Vegas in 2013 - such fun!

Yes, I think another memory-making trip is in order.

"Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard", which I've seen in the cinema the past two nights running, had fabulous views of the Amalfi coast and Positano and Florence, bringing my trip to those areas with the nurses in 2012 flooding back to my senses.

Yes, I think another memory-making trip is in order.

The question is: where shall I go?

(smile!)

what do you do with your days?

I seem to run into that question quite a bit these days.
Sure, people are curious, as they know I am a social butterfly -
a retired social butterfly, at that.
That means my time for attending events is not limited to evenings or weekends.
So, with all of these daylight hours available, how do I pass the time?
Well, for starters, I have my groove thing going on, as I've mentioned before.
Those are the routine elements that mark a day's passage, now as it was pre-pandemic.
My leisurely brunch, now as then, is served with coffee and sometimes dessert.
Now as it was then, I dine while reading or I watch a game show.
Now, I am usually reading the Smithsonian or a book; then, I would have read one of Savannah's two entertainment weeklies.
After breakfast, now as then my groove is flexible.
Sometimes I watch a movie or do puzzles or blog; other times I run errands or check email; plus there are times I write cards or notes or ready birthday gifts for mailing; and occasionally I have luncheons or special meals out.
Trust me, the time passes rather quickly during the day, now as it did then.
What types of errands do I accomplish during daytime hours?
The same ones are done now as were done then, meaning weekly trips for the grocery shopping, picking up oddities at the drugstore, miscellaneous doctor visits, mowing the yards, and doing the laundry.
True, that last one isn't weekly, nor is the penultimate item, though it's every other week and may be more often if the rainy evenings persist.
And, of course, the doctor visits aren't weekly or even monthly, though the timing meant I had my regular check-up, the optometrist appointment, and my first visit to the new dermatologist all within the last two months. All were with the local VA center, too, and only the visit to my primary care physician was virtual.
As for the trips out to stores, I make those into mini-adventures!
First I like to have a long drive, to feel the breeze on my arm and in my hair as I ride with the car window wide open!
Then, I do my shopping guerilla-style, getting in, getting what I need, and getting out!
The long drive is usually enough to cause me to feel the need to pee, so that helps move me along in the store, as strange bathrooms are danger zones for contagion to occur.
That time in the car is precious to me, as I continue to - mostly - shelter at home.
Honestly, the time I most feel the strain is in the evening.
Then, in the idyllic pre-COVID world, I was out most of those.
Movies and dinners with friends (including Tina Tuesdays), volunteer work at the Lucas, artist talks and receptions at the Jepson, improv shows with Odd Lot, the latest artistic endeavors from the theatre troupes and painters and musicians -
honestly, the nights were as full as I could pack them!
And how has all of that changed?
Now, I still have movies with friends, although we are at our homes.
Now, I still have improv shows with Odd Lot (virtually, through fb)...
and those are 'with' my first niece, making them actually an improved situation, as I have weekly - or more - time with her!
Now, I still have access to artist talks at the Jepson, via their website...
not that I've been to any.
That's just "more tv time" in my mind and I already have plenty of that, right?
Between time spent blogging, time spent on social media, time spent "Quantum Leap"-ing with Sam and Al on weekday evenings, and time spent watching movies with PFS or those On Demand on regular channels or via premium networks... well, it gets to be a bit much, especially on the computer.
Ever since I discovered loss adjustment living, I prefer doing all of my voyeuristic activities Element-style, not via Lenovo.
(smile!)

So, just what had started me on this tear about 'what I do'?
Well, remember the MENSA group that I sometimes had dinner with or Christmas parties?
I had contacted mi amiga Barbara, who still declines to be on fb, with news of a mutual friend, Ron, of MENSA.
He has been in the hospital recently and was very ill, with not even Susan allowed in.
When his wife posted that he was out, I let Boo know.
I even passed on that Susan had him snapping beans, as he insisted on being 'useful'.

her: "Ron has always been active, building furniture, growing vegetables, etc. As he becomes more infirm it's going to be tough on him. I spend way too much time playing games on my phone and watching tv as I've already experienced periods where I could spend little time on my feet. Getting old is inevitable but so restrictive and Covid has certainly made it worse. My only outings are grocery, doctor, yoga and walking my neighborhood after dark. Not very exciting. What have you found to do?"

me: "I take long drives, at least once every week, as part of my shopping excursion. Wednesday, I drove to Tybee, hitting the CVS on 80 on my way back to home. :-)"

her: "Sounds nice :-)"

me: "It was wonderful! I really look forward to these drives. :-) Other than those, I blog, watch game shows and Big Bang Theory, movies, and cooking shows."
"I make sure to do something different every couple of days, to break the routine, but also some regular things, like Quantum Leap every weekday evening."

her: "Yeah Quantum Leap is an excellent way to pass the time. My hair stylist sent me a photo from the Bananas' game. Social distancing but not a lot of masks. I have a hard time just wearing one indoors. He claimed of course to be wearing his but he wasn't in the photo. I looked for Lynn and Lauri but didn't see them. Feeling a nap coming on. I'm gathering data this summer to prove to my doctor I'm on the correct dose of benzos. Halving one and never getting more than four to six hours sleep since school let out. I need a minimum of 7.5 hours to function, 8+ to function well. But I'm playing the game and will have the proof. I'll go back on my previously successful full dose as school nears. Really not sure how I feel about school. Kinda hoping we go back to virtual although I despise spending hours sitting in front of a computer."

me: "I have my first - and maybe last - Bananas game on Monday. Lynn and Lauri have not gone to a Bananas game for three years. They didn't like the circus there."

So, now she knows what I do.
(smile!)

beep meep BEEP

There they were!
Three of my favorite little fictional characters from most of the decades
of my life, from three of my favorite galaxies, all gathered together
as if their worlds had collided!
The Looney Tunes' Road Runner was talking excitedly with Muppet Beaker and Star War's R2-D2 on the sidewalk.
Of course it caught my attention!
The caption made me laugh out loud!
"Tragically, no one could hear the truck backing up."
Well-played, Eric Mitchell!
Having grabbed the link for the previous night's PFS movie, "The Man With Two Brains", I then bounced off fb.


That was on Thursday.
Yesterday, I'd popped back on briefly, in hopes of good news from Odd Lot.
None was to be had.
They are on hiatus, after evacuating the Loft on Liberty on June 26.
They were to have celebrated their tenth anniversary of existence this year.
Instead, they have lost their performance space for the second time.
I recommended they look into the space on Eisenhower where Spotlight Cinemas once was.
Chris Soucy said that had been a dream of his for years, so maybe that will happen now.
With plenty of parking and six screening rooms, they could actually share the space with three other groups - my favorites would be Savannah Stage Company, Savannah Repertory Theatre, and Savannah Shakes, of course.
They could even have a Green Room in each wing, between two performance spaces.
Perhaps Cinema Savannah and the Psychotronic Film Society could rent space periodically, too, when the troupes were between shows.
I really think that would be a profitable venture for all...
fingers crossed for good luck!

Meanwhile, I have more loss adjustment to be made.
No more meeting up on fb 'with' my first niece for Friday night hijinks.
That may be for the best, actually.
Nor the part about not 'seeing' more of Christina on that social media site, certainly that is not the issue.
No.
The issue is that, again, I seem to arguing on the side of science with family members who have been educated in that area but are acting with ignorance.
Specifically, I have been arguing in a circle with my dental hygienist niece and her part of the family, this time including her sensible husband.
Like so many in the new demographic for COVID-19 infection, she is anti-face covering.
On Thursday, the day after face coverings became mandatory in Savannah, she and I went round and round on the topic, with me frustrated that she was not following the science or my side of the conversation and her no doubt equally frustrated to again have me trying to change her mind on the subject.
Honestly, I don't even understand why she is concerned about this.
They live in a tiny town about an hour from Savannah.
The only way those folks will be touched by SARS-CoV-2 is if someone there goes off to a larger town and then brings it back.
That's when living in a tiny town can become detrimental, as entire families get infected, overwhelming the scant medical resources normally in place.
I cannot understand her stance on face coverings.
As I kept telling her, the primary purpose of the face covering is to protect everyone else, not for the protection of the wearer, who only receives a 30% reduction in risk of infection.
She kept responding with how little the 'mask' is able to filter, that the virus can pass right through and infect the wearer.
I kept agreeing with her, again trying to make my case about the protection of everyone else from the spittle and exhalations from the wearer of the face covering.
Like the three fictional characters, we were engrossed in conversation to the exclusion of regard of all else, talking in circles.
After the fourth go-around, with her obviously not reading my side, I said as much to her, told her that I loved her, and wished her well.
She told me that she thought I wasn't reading her side, but she loved me, too.
I think that's where I need to leave this.
My nephew Stephen, a welder at the Savannah ports, is also taking the side against science, even though his mom has been a nurse for hour decades.
My nephew Jason, a health trainer with a master's degree in Atlanta, persists in treating the pandemic as if it were a political hoax.
My Aunt Barbara, another tiny town resident, has recently adopted that stance, too, sending me videos that are doctored to corroborate that illogical idea.
I feel like I'm in the middle of a bad dream...
wanting, no needing, desperately to wake up...
knowing it will take a fierce alarm to shake all out of a state of stupor.
Meanwhile, I don't think I should spend more than sixty minutes per week on fb, especially as that site insists on feeding me news designed to antagonize.
I certainly cannot take the stress of knowing that intelligent people I love are taking irresponsible risks, deliberately going against all knowledge learned from the European Union during this pandemic.
I certainly cannot take the stress of knowing that intelligent people I love are deliberately evincing the anti-science bias rampant in American politics.
I certainly cannot take the stress of knowing intelligent people I love are endangering themselves and others and may well die before herd immunity causes the pandemic to naturally slow its advance to a nearly imperceptible crawl.
That's completely due to math, by the way.
That won't kick in until we hit at least a 70% infection value.
That means seventy people of every hundred will have survived the infectious disease, whatever the disease is, and have antibodies in place to prevent re-infection.
That would mean that only 30 of every 100 people would run the risk of catching the disease, though only if they happened to have the misfortune of being around one of the 30 who might possibly be contagious.
Hooray for math, and science, coming to the aid of those willfully ignorant.
Remember when our President warned, in May, that the US might have as many as 100,000 deaths from the coronavirus?
Well, based on current values, now Dr. Fauci says we should expect 100,000 new cases of infection daily.
As of 12:15 PM today, the USA has a total of 2,784,452 people who have been infected.
I'll try to remember to check Monday for an update on the number of new cases between now and then.
Meanwhile, to gain herd immunity and protect the stubborn, the USA needs to hit a minimum of 216,122,200 total cases of people with COVID-19.
I realize that's actually a bit low, as I've based it on the 2010 census, which had our total population at 308,745,538.
I shudder to think how many deaths will accompany such a number of cases.
Sigh.

Wear face coverings in public.
Keep alligators handy for social distancing.
Wash your hands and leave your face alone.
Those three things are all that is needed to survive a pandemic.

Now, I've been invited to be one of 11 again, so I'm going.
Happy Independence Day.

missing Mama

That's the truth of the matter.
That's the reason that I lost my mind and sobbed.
I even had to turn off the sound of the tv, trying to cry myself out and regain some semblance of control
And what had me so bereft?
Little fictional characters, coming to an abrupt end, unexpectedly.
Sigh.
I had known the first episode of the evening was the final one for "Quantum Leap".
I had known that... but I was expecting a happy reunion between Sam and his wife.
No.
The entire episode had been foreboding, taking place on the day - August 8, 1953 - of Sam Beckett's birth, with him appearing as his grown self, with aging to remind him he'd been out in the universe for five years.
White hair at his crown?
Wrinkles by his eyes?
Mementos of the hard lives he'd been party to for so long.
Okay... that's different, I thought.
Then, there was the matter of people showing up that looked like others he'd known...
like Jimmy, the kid with Down's Syndrome, and his brother...
and the Captain Galaxy look-alike...
and the characters Siggy and Gooshie, same names of folks in his time, but different people.
And then there was the whole business with Al.
Was the bartender, also named Al, supposed to be his guide this time?
Because the usual Al was trapped in the future, his mental telepathy broken down.
Sam had leapt, and no one from his time knew to when or to where.
And when the craggy, crippled, curmudgeon leapt out, it was such a shock that I cried.
What was going on???
Then the bartender Al and Sam had a philosophy conversation...
talking about the whole "righting wrongs, making things better" thing that Sam did...
what Sam had believed someone else was controlling...
and that Sam had believed someone else was choosing the destinations and people...
but that the bartender Al said that Sam was actually controlling.
That's when Sam leaped for what would be the last time.
He went back to the one leap that he had left something undone, the one leap where he knew he'd left too soon, the one leap when he had chosen to not right a wrong.
And he fixed it...
telling the woman that her husband, a POW, was still alive and would return to her...
telling the woman to not give up hope, to wait for her husband to come home.
And so she did.
And Al and Beth were reunited and had four daughters and were married 39 years...
but Sam Beckett never came back.
I just lost it when those words came onto the screen.
I mean, lost it.
I must have sat there for the next twenty minutes, sobbing still while trying to lose myself in the 7 PM episode, which was the first of the series...
which had none of the "righting wrongs" flavor, just a guy who knew the image in the mirror was not his own and a wife who realized the man who had just kissed her was not her husband, even though he looked like him.
That's when the episode ended and I gratefully turned off the tv, still stunned from the earlier episode, and realized I also felt a sense of betrayal.
Not once had Sam mentioned what was surely a personal reason for his quest to travel in time: a desire to see his father.
By the time the Quantum Leap project had become a reality, John Beckett had been dead for twenty-two years.
Twenty-two years.
And I am supposed to believe that loss was not a driving force for this scientist who had spent his life working toward the goal of time travel???
Especially when there were so many episodes when he was in Elkridge, Indiana, at a time when his dad was still alive, leaps where he took advantage of proximity to see his father or at least speak a few words to him on a phone.
Why wouldn't Sam and the bartender speak of that loss?
If I had that scientist's skills when Mama died, I would have sought that recourse.
Sam had been 21 when his father died.
That meant he had all of that time at college, gaining doctorates in multiple disciplines along the way, to gather the knowledge to build his time travel device, perfecting it by the time he was 43 years old and at the peak of his career.
If the desire to see his father had not been paramount, then why did Sam insist on being the test subject on the machine's first run?
Sigh.
So many questions that went unanswered, taxing my mind, vexing my emotions.
I felt absolutely drained of energy, and sad, sad, sad.
What a relief when my phone chirped that I had mail.
What a bigger relief when I saw it was my first niece, coming to my emotional rescue.
i thank You, God, for this telepathic bond we share.

her: "Thank you for the pictures." [I'd sent them to her after Sunday's cookout.]
me: "You are very welcome.
Good to hear from you.
Saw the last episode of Quantum Leap tonight and cried and cried.
That was at 6.
Then the first was on at 7.
I had just not expected the ending to be like that.
So abrupt."
her: [photo of her and Miyah]
me: "Gorgeous."
her: "I don't remember how it ended."
me: "He leaped to the day he was born, but as himself in a mining town.
No Al for most of it.
At end, Sam went back to see Al's first wife to tell her Al was alive and would soon return from being POW and she should wait for him.
Then Al and Beth live happily ever after and Sam never returns home."
her: "Humph. I will have to watch it."
me: "Last night he was Elvis.
That one was excellent."
her: "Love you. I am going to bed."
me: "He sang four songs!
Totally excellent."
her: "I think I remember that one."
me: "Love you too, my dear. Sweet dreams."
her: [invited me to join her and her mom for lunch in Richmond Hill]
me: [yes, if okay with her mom. What time?]
her: "When the sun is highest in the sky."
me: "High noon!"
her: "Is there a low noon?"
me: "That was never mentioned in Westerns. Go figure!"
her: [photo of low noon as per google]
me: "So, that's to cover you being late?"
her: "Yes!"
her: [little clip of Boo going to bed in Monsters, Inc.; she knows I adore that movie]
me: "Good night, Boo."

Then, I cued up TBS and watched "Last Holiday", snuggled into the loveseat, enjoying every minute of this sweet Christmas movie.
Yes, I've seen it before, that's how I knew it was perfect for tonight, when mothering was needed.
Now, after two hours of straight snuggling, I feel cherished and calm; perfect ending of the day.
(smile)
i thank You, God, for leading me to this loss adjustment furniture.

loss adjustment, in the living room

When I'm just going to watch tv and my mood ring is serene blue -
that's if I still had such a thing from my youth -
the couch is the place to be.
In fact, until the past six months, when I had others living with me, the couch was the only place I ever sat in the living room.
I could stretch out on it, with both feet up, just chilling out.

Then came Michael and his two little girls and I just naturally migrated to the loveseat, to allow them to all sit together on the couch.
After they moved out, I found myself switching back and forth between the two pieces of furniture.
If I was having lunch or dinner, then I sat at the loveseat, to use the marble-topped coffee table.
If I wanted to stretch out my legs, then I sat on the couch.

Then I had an epiphany last week, on Thursday evening while watching my time travel show.
My foot had located a place to be which registered as "human touch", which translated in my brain as not being alone, which reassured my psyche as a sense of contentment and comfort, just as a suitcase on my bed once had.
Now, when I need to be held, to feel the warmth of being cuddled, I can get a pretty good facsimile simply by sitting on the loveseat, my back partly on the arm near the wall and pressed into the big pillows.
The sensation can be enhanced by putting my left leg up on the seat and pressing the sole of that foot into the soft cushioned leather of that other arm.
The loveseat is exactly the right size for snuggling into and cuddling...
exactly the right size for me.

i thank You, God.

keeping my silly self home tricks

I conversation I had earlier on my phone has stayed with me.
Rather, a phrase I used during that texting episode has kept repeating:
defense mechanism.
Based on a psychological model, the term refers to a technique a person uses unconsciously to better handle a stressful or harmful situation.
Yes, I most definitely do that, but I wouldn't exactly call it an unconscious action on my part.
I know it better by another phrase: loss adjustment.
I've been practicing loss adjustment for better than a third of my life now, though most consciously since 2004.
That was the year I went to Okinawa with Sue and her two little ones.
I realized then that I was transferring my experiences that I had lived to share with Mama into experiences that I was living for me.
In other words, by revisiting that duty station and some of the places on that island, I was accepting those new memories for simply their worth to me, not to anyone else.
It was a wake-up call for me, in more ways than one.
When I was first divorced, I had to find ways to combat that loss of love, that loss of friendship, and, more so than I would have known, that loss of touch, of connection with another person.
In my new life AD, my first recognition of my body having found an antidote to loss of touch was by pure happenstance.
I had returned from "waking up somewhere else" and left my suitcase on the other side of the foot of the king-sized bed.
In the morning, I was surprised to find that I had slept through the night!
My foot had found the suitcase in the night, satisfying my mind that I was not alone.
Two days later, I had another loss adjustment moment, again concerning bedtime.
My BFF had suggested a heated mattress pad, as nothing is quite as alluring as a warm bed on a chilly night.
She was absolutely correct, and I have found myself still using it, even though 2020 has slid almost halfway through this spring month.
(smile)
Since then, I've written about loss adjustment on various occasions, including:
my feelings toward my ex;
minding my energy after SamJ and Daddy died;
the importance of airports when returning from a visit with friends;
my return to solitude after Italy;
complications from clothing on relationships;
the use of music as a healing balm;
my love for the bfe;
the absence of a shoe;
the Rogue moving out and up to Atlanta;
the removal of an oak tree;
the departure of dear friends for their home in California;
the realization that travel is more tiring now;
the helpfulness of nature to the soul after Jean Marie's death;
acceptance of the age difference with the bfrb;
how to deal with hurricanes.

So, during this time of "shelter in place" during the worst of this pandemic, what types of loss adjustment have I set in motion to hang onto those tattered shreds I call sanity?
Well, here are the ones I have at this point in time.

1) Put my hair into a ponytail or braid, then leave it that way for several days in a row. No brushing of the hair allowed!
How that helps:
I know I look like a hot mess and that keeps me from even thinking about leaving home.

2) Don't put on clothes, except maybe a nightgown.
How that helps:
Well, I certainly can't go out in public like that! May as well just enjoy myself at home!

3) Don't put on shoes, either.
How that helps:
Well, driving barefoot is illegal, so... no shoes, no driving, stay home.
That's not rocket science.

4) Watch "The Big Bang Theory" every day.
How that helps:
Those boys of physics are part of my normal evening fare, as they have been for more than a decade.
That bit of normalcy helps belay the sadness of the world.

5) Eat favorite foods as much as possible.
How that helps:
The taste and smell activates the memory of having that same thing in much better circumstances, something that's been researched and was in a recent NOVA episode.

6) Limit exposure to social media and to news.
How that helps:
People can be careless with their words during a crisis and the media is just relentlessly so.
Use genuine sites for information that's truthful and useful.

7) Make sure to have some variety in movie entertainment.
How that helps:
Not that a familiar film isn't a pleasure from time to time, but to one accustomed to new offerings at the cinemas, "new" is what is needed to distract the mind and... oddly... to add a bit of normalcy to my life.
A Quarantine Film Festival seems to the answer.

8) Make sure to feel some sunshine at least twice a week.
How that helps:
Even though I take my Vitamin D supplement every day now, there's nothing that quite compares to making like a lizard and basking in the sun for a little while.

9) Dance, kill shrubbery, mow the grass... just MOVE THAT BODY!
How that helps:
Those are all actions that give me a sense of accomplishment.
Plus, we all know how much I enjoy dancing!
(smile)

10) Write, write, write.
How that helps:
First, it helps me to organize my thoughts and relish past events.
Second, it allows me to vent in a direction that takes the hurt away.
Third, it can be quite entertaining!

So, loss adjustment in a different setting, but not really anything new.
Now, what say we take seriously that idea of a Quarantine Film Festival?!
That will certainly be entertaining and I already have quite a few movies under my belt, thanks to free previews of Showtime and Starz ON DEMAND these past couple of months.
Sounds like a plan!