Taking Care of Myself

written saturday 29 March

When I went to New York two weeks ago to have my biopsy done I had the great fortune of getting together with my New York clique of girls who propped me up and peeled me grapes and wiped my tears and probably cleaned my puke on a day to day tag team basis with intermittent relief from other angels who flew in from all over to give them a break.  (I couldn't have done it without any of you..) 

Getting together with my NY crowd, while we talk trash and I watch them drink too much wine is one of the funnest and funniest things to do. They are a talented, smart, rowdy, witty and loving crowd. Thanks ladies...

After that 24 hour whirlwind (way too short) I took Amtrak up to Boston to see my original clique. My girls from junior high. We met in Boston to be nearest to Allison after her back surgery. Kaethe came from Denver and Susanne from Tucson. We talked and laughed and cried and analyzed and ate and shopped and walked and it went way too fast. 
I know that nourishing all these friendships is an integral part of taking care of myself.  And I know that taking care of myself is of the upmost importance. 

I'm writing tonight from a very dirty ryokan (a "traditional" Japanese hotel) in Kyoto, Japan. We spent a lovely day scratching the surface of an ancient culture. We walked through Buddhist temples that were orange and gold and filled with old smooth wood and incense. In one, I lit a candle for good luck for my babies.

The cherry and plum blossoms are just yawning open here and the sun was especially bright it seemed. There were throngs of Japanese tourists, Chinese tourists, and us. Everyone seemed so happy to be roaming around these ancient hills. I love walking around in a happy crowd. Everyone was dressed so cutely. Chic and neat. I wasn't sure where to be looking or what to be taking pictures of. I started off with the usual pictures of sights and then us in front of sights. Then, as usual, I always mix in photographing the hearts I find everywhere. But before long, I just had to start taking pictures of shoes. All the awesome shoes. Six inch high red platforms. Super glittery loafers with giant glittery bows. Colorful Dragon Beard trainers. Tiny toddlers wearing itsy bitsy high-tops.  I could hardly focus on anything until we stopped to have a soy milk green tea soft serve ice cream. (Possibly now my new favorite food on the plant, trumping dark chocolate covered almonds and steamed kale with soy sauce and tahini). 

After such a nice day, I'm still very jet lagged. Its late late and the rain is pounding down. I'm laying on my futon and straw mat, wide awake. It stresses me out because I know I should be asleep and that I need my sleep. It was the same this morning in Tokyo.  Andy and I were running to the train station in order to catch the train in time for the tour we booked in Kyoto. I was stressing out. I was sure we were going to miss our train and that all would be lost. I had bought seats yesterday specifically on the right side of the train so that we could see Mt. Fuji as we passed by. And now, I was worried we were going to miss Mt. Fuji too! At one point Andy said to me, "I didn't just sweat my ass off for the last three years to watch you stress out like this. It's not worth it!" And he was totally right. 

So tonight, I started writing this because as I lay on this hard futon on the floor in this odorous Ryokam, I'm stressing out.  Maybe I'm writing about it to help calm myself down. If I told you how much we were paying for this, it would make more sense. But I can't even bring myself to write the number down and then see it in print!  It's a lot more than the $30 that ,maybe, it's worth. 

Unfortunately, I am the one who booked this place. Kyoto was a side trip that I really wanted to take and it got planned in an unplanned hurry.  It's high season here because of the cherry blossoms, so I said yes to staying here without doing the proper research. It was suggested by the concierge at our hotel in Tokyo and so I grabbed it (against Andy's advice I must add). So later, after we did do some research, Andy pulled up trip advisor and I thought "uh oh, it's one of those love/hate hotels". People were either elated or repulsed! I started getting nervous...

Well, a really stinky smell hit us when we first stepped in to the ryokan. Now I realize that the smell is unavoidable and lingers everywhere. Then, dinner was absolutely repulsive. An inedible meal we had to sneak out on in order to find a second dinner in town. Plus, there's filthy carpets they make you take your shoes off to walk on. I am for sure, peeved and stressed out. and I know it's not good for me. 

I always liked the wit of this quote: "Resentment is when I drink poison and wait for you to die". Susanne reminded me of it when we were in Boston and discussing such things. And I'm remembering it now as I'm laying here, wound up and jet lagged, hoping someone asks me how my stay was tomorrow morning at check out so I can them tell them the truth and  only pay them the $30 they don't deserve. 

It's difficult because they're not nasty in any way. I just don't think that half used bottles of soap in the shower that is actually a hose hooked up to the sink tap, and a totally funky terry cloth seat cover on the toilet seat (not the lid) is cool anywhere where people are paying for the night. Somehow I doubt this would be what you might find in a traditional royokan. Andy and I quickly renamed this place "Royocan't".

So, in honor of my sustained health, I will try to compartmentalize this experience while I try to get a few hours sleep. I will leave this blog post in a cliff hanger as no one knows how it will end up at check out tomorrow. They're bringing breakfast to the room at 8:30 so I have a mind to sneak out to Starbucks before they arrive. I'm going to put my poison down, and set the alarm clock for 7:45...