Thus be it resolved

On January 7, 2013 by Eden M. Kennedy

My birthday is later this week and I’m having fun imaging that I am still just half-way through my life, that I have a whole other 49 years of mature adulthood in which I do not have to waste time waiting to grow boobs, get a driver’s license, or learn to drink without getting a hangover, but am a ready-to-go human being and can do mostly whatever the hell I want. Not included on my mental vision board is the assumption that the years 50-100 may include at least one life-threatening illness, correctable by surgery, during which my heart may be stopped — which happened to my mother-in-law on the day before Christmas, ho ho ho. Though surviving a one-stop heart or cancer-related dip in the post-menopausal years has happened to so many people I know that I’ve almost come to expect it as a rite of passage. Program your iPod, pack your bag, and don’t forget to ask for a vitamin C drip.

Of course, anything can happen, and it frequently does. Like on the day after Christmas, when I was driving home from work on the 101 and all of a sudden it’s BANG! SMASH! and I am spinning sideways toward the guard rail. My only question, as I was trundling toward the shoulder of the road, was what to do with my steering wheel, since unexpected forces were clearly in charge of my car now. So I just let go and watched the wheel spin around, and then I got the mildest whiplash ever when my car hit the rail. I’m not sure when my glasses flew off, but I couldn’t find them for the life of me, even with a borrowed highway patrol officer’s flashlight. I stopped looking under the passenger side front seat when he said, You know, those airbags sometimes go off by themselves after an accident. So, with nothing to do but wait for a tow truck, I squinted at my phone and mashed apps until I found one that would take a photo:

smashed

It doesn’t look too bad there, but the car was undriveable and had to be towed. The most fun thing about all of this is the fact that five cars were involved and it wasn’t immediately clear who was at fault. I finally got the accident report this morning (12 days later), and called the responsible party’s insurance company so we can get this resolved, but I have a sad suspicion that the cost of repairing my car will amount to more than the car is worth, and they’ll declare it totaled. :-(

On the upside, I’ve been borrowing a friend’s Volkswagen with heated front seats and I can yell, “Toast your buns!” at Jackson as we drive to school in the morning.

And thus ends three weeks of winter vacation, Jesus Christ. I love my man, I love my child, I love my dog, but three weeks of togetherness meant I didn’t get a thing done, writing- or drawing-wise, and you know what? That’s okay. We baked cookies, we drank wine, we played Gin Rummy, we lost entire days to Netflix.

2013

  1. Draw every day, intuitively and without agenda
  2. Write every day, even if it’s just 15 minutes, to keep the neural helipad open and clear for the Muse to touch down
  3. Yoga every day, even if it’s just 15 minutes, or you will become dry and crisp and withered as the husk of Indian corn nailed to your mother’s front door, which nobody ever rescued until Spring because we all went into the house through the garage
  4. Never, ever beat myself up if 1, 2, or 3 doesn’t happen every day

 

Comments

comments

19 Responses to “Thus be it resolved”

  • If it has to be whiplash, mild is the best kind. I’m glad you are okay.

  • I love your rules. They are beautiful ones. Just like the one who penned em. x

  • Happy Birthday! Once you’ve had toasted buns, you can never go back. xo

  • Oh crap. Sorry about your wheels, and did your glasses ever turn up? :( I too am resolutely assuming that I’m only half way there and have another *sigh* 49 years to go. However 49 is numerologically cool because it’s 7×7 and that is a lot of good luck, says my wife. So. Forecasting a good year for both of us.

  • This is a great post. Just wanted to say.

  • I would love to add yoga to my 2013 wish list, but I’m already stretched too thin.

  • You are the best! I can’t tell you how much I love reading your blog. Please don’t ever stop writing again!

    Wonderful, wonderful post!!!

    Rebecca

  • Glad that you walked away from that with only the mild things!

    Our beloved older van (with not many miles on it and many more planned) was totaled, parked in front of our house, by a hit and run driver at 2 am. I actually heard a noise, but by the time my no-glasses face got out of bed and over to the window, it didn’t all compute — my brilliant husband parked the car farther ahead so the garbage guys could find our garbage? — there’s a car pulling out of our driveway, where it did a reverse U-turn? My glasses-less eyes didn’t see the massively smashed in rear end of the car hiding behind a tree. It had been shoved almost a full car length ahead of where it had been parked.

    The only “evidence” we found was a Lexus L thing across the street and some pieces too small to have VIN numbers. The cops (many hours later when we figured it all out and they came) suggested that it was likely that the person(s) had come back and “cleaned up” all the pieces of their car so as not to get caught. I’m assuming they were also on the way home from a bar.

    Sigh. So, we got very little money and it was from our own insurance. I shake my fist at Lexus SUV things whenever I see them.

  • Glad you’re safe, friend.

  • Glad you came out of an accident relatively unscathed….

    I like #4 the best. It’s good to have a fail safe.
    Amen.

  • happy early b-day! hope you blog more, as i enjoy seeing life thru your (now lost) lenses. (ps. i have a shit-ton of grey pitching camp on my head. every time i waver on letting it be, i remember you & alice, i think “no, i can do this”. )

  • Yes! Yes! Yes! (But: One “Shit” for the totalled car. Shit!)

  • Oh boy. BOY. Now I feel like such a wimp in how I reacted to my accident.

    You strike me as someone who has cajones of steel, Mrs. K.

    I hope some karmic thing will get you a car that runs wonderfully–either this car or another car. That’s what happened to me when I had an accident. Well, I guess some people would call it a lawsuit. But I like to think of it as the universe’s magic.

    I’m just stealing your resolutions wholesale. Literally every single one. Sorry! I’m already a dried up husk of Indian corn so I guess the yoga will only forestall the inevitable cracking and blowing into the wind. But that’s something!

  • Glad you are ok. And winter break sounded dreamy…you’ll remember that stuff, not the stuff that didn’t get done.

  • I’m sorry that happened, the crunch is the worst. Here’s to a car you can drive like you stole. Wait, that’s not good Karma. Keep writing, it’s your vital expression!

  • Happy Birthday. Glad you’re here to celebrate. So sorry about the smashed coche.

  • And may it be ever so belated; Happy birthday, fellow Capricorn.

  • Hope your birthday was a happy one, and that this year brings you terrific stuff!

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