kvetching up

I don't know what kind of world you want to live in, but when I learned that Dido's Lament was originally performed by children for children, well, I am glad that wasn't my education. I suppose it may have been intended as a cautionary tale for wayward women of the 17th century, as the indoctrination into the patriarchy always starts young. But, wow.  When I lived in Manhattan, I must have owned 20 different versions of Dido and Aeneas by Nathaniel Dance-Holland. Dido's Lament (and more than 5 versions of Gloomy Sunday). It is the most arresting aria. Jessye Norman's version is my favorite. She also was a friend of Derrick's, my professor, who had Norman's autographed picture hanging in our office. I am not a student of opera, and had no knowledge of Henry Purcell nor English opera until hearing Norman sing. Hmm. Go figure.  This is going somewhere.  Maybe.  Dido, bereft that her beloved left her, builds a funeral pyre and throws herself on it. The Gods, Ven...

 Entry 1     8:48 a.m. Bi-weekly   Chemo Week Much Scarier than Shark Week Thursday is chemotherapy for Jenny.  Her friend Amelia is taking her.  We are saving my sick and vacation days for vacation and cataclysm.  I fucking hate chemotherapy week.  Watching the cancer eat away at Jenny is terrible enough--and not as bad as it could be given her fortitude and resilience, But chemo and the attendant drugs that go along with it are, well, hell.  She is out of it for the first 24-48 hours following chemo.  The following 2 days are touch and go, mostly go.  We are moving forward as if everything is going to continue, as if the deluge has been forestalled indefinitely.  The packing continues apace.  I secured a home insurance binder this morning for the new home.  A moving company--Jenny's girlfriends recommended a firefighter owned company (imagine if I hired a nurse operated moving company, holy shit)--is coming today to...

Entry 1     10:27 a.m. Just before our love got lost you said, "I am as constant as a northern star." And I said, "Constantly in the darkness Where's that at? If you want me I will be in the bar." -from " A Case of You " by Joni Mitchell Tuesday  Two days away from chemotherapy.  I am wondering, as always, what that will bring.  CA 19-9, the cancer antigen/marker measurement, usually isn't done every week.  But I have a sneaking suspicion that this will now change, given the last reading.  Jenny seems remarkably healthy, off this morning to school, ostensibly to visit with her principal.  Ostensibly.   Life is so disjointed in this time. Everything is up in the air, everything unclear.  COVID-19 alone would have screwed me up, but all the transitions, the shift or shifts in thinking and expectation(s), the loss of narrative thread.  Who am I, even?  Who the fuck are you?  I thought I gave up angst as a teenager. I had...