My birthday is Friday. (Can I just say here, please, no e-cards? Thanks.) I am being pestered by some charming bloggy friends to do something festive to celebrate and mark the occasion, since it’s a milestone event that ends in 0. What goes before the zero? If I wanted to share that, I would have told you already.

Frankly, since I have been feeling better and managing my pain better, I am more on a push to make money to prepare for my trip at the end of the month. And keep up with the bills, even though I will be taking a week off at the end of June. This requires planning.

I’ve caved to the notion that working on my birthday is insane if it’s voluntary, so I cleared my schedule with the network for that day. (I can always log on if I feel ambitious.) So, that’s festive, kind of. Or not.

Since I’m 1/8 Native Canadian (straddling the US border), I thought that I would like to celebrate in the native way, with a giveaway.

For those who suffer anxiety especially, (but you may substitute anxiety for whatever you are suffering from,) this will help. It is a way to self-treat any blockages in your energy field. For instance, loss of a loved one through death or breakup can often leave a heavy weight on one’s heart. It makes for difficulty in experiencing joy in other things. You can use this mini meditation to remove blockages from your heart chakra. Or wherever you sense the blockages to be.

http://grace.blindally.com/guided/breathe.zip

This will start a download to your desktop. Double click to unzip and put it on your ipod, or wherever you keep mp3 files.

It’s a nice little five minute holiday that you can give yourself each day.

Except when you are driving. Because that would suck.

Enjoy!

Oh. Hi! Remember me? I’ve been one big sweaty ball of pain for the last six months or so. Which might account for my minimal posting. Or not. But I have finally got me a diagnosis, and with that, a plan. Plans are good. They give me confidence. Confidence that I can manage this pain without killing my liver any deader by using anti-inflammatories and wine in combination. Well, dead is dead, of course. What was I saying?

Oh yeah. I have a diagnosis for the pain in my neck and shoulders and arms and OH GOD I THOUGHT I WOULD DIE. Did I shout that? I’m sorry. Put your eyeplugs away now. It basically is a degenerative condition involving my C4 vertebra, which is odd, because you all know my aversion to bras, and I wish I had been kinder to this one. The good news is that I can take steps to really slow down or even stop the degeneration, and that is why I am excited about the plan.

Today, I saw my physiotherapist, Selda, who is totally not a sadist, so score! Over ten years of pretty steady computer usage (remember I went to geek school? I totally did.) and being unaware of my posture actually causes damage. Who knew? They should entirely cover how to sit so you don’t kill your liver in geek school. The geeks would be so grateful. Well, maybe just the older-than-the-instructors geeks.

Anyway, Selda was totally patient as she explained what was going on, and how I could benefit from the exercises. She told me what the goal of each exercise was, and how to modify the way I had been doing them the past week. And why. Why is important. I committed to 100% compliance to the schedule of exercises between last week and this week, and hot diggity, I saw some results! Small results, but it gives me hope. And my liver is gasping in exhaustion, but proud of me. Besides, I’ve been taking a product that is similar to glucosamine without the pesky side effects, and I’m convinced that I can keep this thing from getting worse.

So now that I have hope and all, I also have a plan to dig myself out of the financial hole the pain put me in. Well, that and that pesky trip to visit Skinny Bitch and get together with my father’s side of the family, including Grammie! We all love us some Grammie. It won’t take me long. I can do this. Shut up, I can. Ass Burger Boy is helping tremendously. On all fronts. I’m so proud of him.

And the pain in the butt? Has a name. Herman. (Thanks, Krissa.) We’ll address Herman when he is screaming for attention again. You’re welcome.

Wait! Don’t unsubscribe! It’s been so long since I posted that I fear when I appear in your reader, you be all “Oh, her. Nothing to see here, folks. Goodbye.”

You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?

How bad is it? The BlogHer Ads Team sent me a gentle reminder that I haven’t posted in quite a while. And a few of you have emailed to see if something is wrong.

I haven’t been a very good bloggy friend, and I am sorry. I have been reading, just not commenting much. Lurker that I am. Oh, the guilty lurkiness!

I’ve been feeling poorly lately, and you do NOT want to know the details. You’re welcome. But I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning today. And my next few weeks will be filled with visits to the hospital for x-rays and blood tests and other diagnostic delights.

It’s raining pretty hard today, which is a blessing, because there is a big fire raging hereabouts. Last time I checked, 317 homes had been evacuated. Of course, getting home from the doctor’s appointment in the wind and rain was not pleasant, but hey, compared to being evacuated, I can just suck it up. Or suck it. Whatever that means.

There has been a lot of family drama going on as well, and it makes my heart heavy of late. I’m not free to disclose details.

In better news, Dances With Shrapnel is home from being deployed in Afghanistan. Now I can watch the news again. Exhale.

And? Ass Burger Boy’s job has gone from part time to full time. He is starting to feel somewhat better about himself. He will be doing the happy dance when he can bank some serious money.

I don’t think you even want to click over from your reader unless you want to read about craptastic stuff that doesn’t empower you. If that’s where you’re at, pull up a chair. I have coffee. Help yourself to some. You’ll need it to stay awake.

• I have an uninvited houseguest. I’m actively plotting her murder. And she is pregnant. I can tell by her size and the way she moves when she scurries under my stove. I’m silently imploring her to eat the poison I left under the stove. Night before last, she was so bold, she came into the living room.
• I hate meeces to peeces.
• There is something in the airwaves today that is sucking the emotional life out of my clients. Honestly, I had two in a row that I was totally unable to inspire, even when I saw good things for them. They sucked me into their vortex of despair. Well, I don’t feel despair, just really, really tired.
• I had plenty of sleep last night.
• I have a cavity that is increasing in size due to a phobia. I was 18 when I went to the only (so-called) dentist in my area. It was hugely traumatic. His hands were dirty, his breath smelled of alcohol, and now I cannot tolerate any hands or tools in my mouth. It felt like a form of rape.
• I have a doctor’s appointment to get a referral to an acupuncturist for the terrible pain in my shoulder and arm that anti-inflammatory drugs do not touch. I’m terrified of narcotics. I never want to have another MRI. Non-invasive, my left foot. It took me three full days for my energy field to right itself from the last one. And surgery? I don’t think so.
• I’m going to ask for antibiotics at the same time for the tooth. So I can make the appointment, take a few happy pills, and have no infection when the torture dental appointment happens.
• This has become the anti Grace in Small Things, hasn’t it? Sorry, Schmutzie.

• I’ve been cheating on my blog with a book. Honestly cannot put it down. Anybody read “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle”?
• I have also subscribed to some mindless blogs that I immensely enjoy. One is F*** My Life, which features twitter length episodes of doom and humiliation from readers. Strangely, it makes me feel better about my life. Schadenfreude is alive and well hereabouts.
• Redneck Mommy reports via Twitter that her husband is out of the woods. Keep sending energy, prayers, and whatever good wishes you have to spare. Or, a casserole, because who wants to cook when camped out in a hospital while your hubby is in a hyperbaric chamber?
• I just ordered some Girl Scout Thin Mints cookies because we don’t get them here. Shipping for one box is $8.50. FML.
• We just got dumped with 25 cm of snow. That’s about 10″. I haven’t measured, so any locals with a stick can feel free to correct me. March came in like a lion; it’s going out like a polar bear. Oh, yeah, and the heat cut out yesterday. I am so a fan of polar fleece pajamas.
• I had to log off work early yesterday because my back pain was so intense it made me nauseous. I have a fairly late night reading to schedule. Didn’t make my agenda last night. FML.
• Tomorrow, I may share the goodies I have received in the mail lately. If I can wrestle the camera from Ass Burger Boy long enough.