How I ended up standing outside a Walmart in tears in the pouring rain this afternoon while hearing the words ‘pre-cancerous cells’ over my cellphone, I’m not sure. Then miraculously making it to class a few hours later anyway, and ending the night with unexpected whoops of laughter and a new job waitressing at my favorite little pub in the city, Chez Lucien’s. For someone who was waxing poetic on stability and lack of surprises, I sure got bit in the ass. All I know is that I was sitting nonchalant on the 97 bus, when all of a sudden I got hit by a wave of utter physical discomfort, which I suffered through about 7 long bus stops ‘till it was time to get off. I had two options which happened to be in two opposite directions: to my right was the path to the chiropractor’s office, where I was already late for a much-needed ajustment, and to my left was the massive grey Walmart from which the disturbing smell of MacDonald’s was wafting towards my nauseated self. Although option one was certainly more appealing and though I had nearly reached it, another hellish wave of nausea and cramps crossed my body like lightening and I found myself turning and limping painstakingly towards the towering surburban nightmare before me. I could barely decipher where I was going or why, except to grimace in disgust as I approached the mega store. I ended up spending an extremely disturbing time cowering in the dirty, fisher-pricey washroom in near-panic. When I finally emerged from my stupor, I speed-walked through the yellow happy-face sale racks to the great outdoors, where a torrential downpour was taking place. And then the phone call from my dearest friend. Feeling shakey from my own unfortunate adventure, yet trying to calm her and find control in positive thinking. Realizing that I’d missed my damn chiropractor’s appointment, which I had taken a long bus ride towards and which was only a few minutes away. Wondering if I was strong enough to make it back home somehow. Remembering that I had a class to get to. Feeling overwhelmingly lost.

But I knew I had to get on another bus for another forty-minute bus ride if it was the last thing I did. I had to get away from the imagery of being trapped on the isle of Walmart in the country of Isolated Surburbia, and the sounds of my beautiful kindred spirit’s voice shaking as it tried to grasp some composure and courage. Once back on that bus, I started regaining my senses. I was riding towards my best friend, getting closer and closer with every stop, going where I was needed most. I made it to class, where my two friends combined their pride and strength and radiance to uplift us all into a safer, more comfortable place. We rode on this elevated plateau until well after class over drinks and snacks at Chez Lucien, surrounded by beautiful artwork on the walls. I remembered the promise I made to buy myself a piece for my own walls, instead of acquiring it solely for a gift as I normally do. In honour of the evening’s light, and my friends, and the comfort I felt while there, I have committed myself to buying a piece that hung above us tonight. Gorgeous works of blues, aquas and greens with dashes of fiery red. And I have committed myself, somehow with my dear S, to work a few shifts a week to help out the cutest old bar owner around these parts! I don’t know where this will lead or what will come of this (beyond the extra pocket change I will gain), but it just feels like a nice thing to do.

But before you move on from this blog and set your mind to other things, please take a moment to send your magic this way. My most cherished friend is very worried and thinking the worst thoughts - the kind that only come up as question marks, the kind that seem to breathe through every pore in fear. Let her know that she is not alone, and that this may not be serious, and that she will be allright.

Take a look at that painting below, my friends: The Uplifting Nature of Love, indeed.