I know how much miracles cost. 37 cents for the first ounce and 32 cents per ounce after that. A couple of weeks ago, blythe025 asked me for my snail mail address. I gave it to her, and thought at the time that there was exactly one thing that I could receive from her that would make me completely happy. What I got went so far beyond my wildest dreams that I just broke down in tears (yeah, I do that a lot).

This amazing woman has written a piece of poetry that makes my heart melt every time I hear it, and she actually handmade an exquisite little hardcover chapbook with this poem and some other beautiful poems (The First Kiss is another favorite of mine) and sent it to me.

It was like thinking that having a scoop of ice cream would be wonderful, and getting a banana split served to you in a crystal goblet by someone you love and admire. I'm completely blissed out.

blythe025, "thank you" does not begin to cover it.

In other news:
I added a new section to my "to do" list - communications. If I don't actively make an effort, I can go for months without picking up the phone and calling anybody, and there are a few people I've let slip through the cracks.

I called two of my best friends, women who are about 10 years older than I am, and had hour-long conversations with each of them. I realized after the fact that more than half of our conversation centered around health issues. Mine are minor (I recently came down with pneumonia, but that's past and I'm fine). Theirs are huge and severe and are eating up a lot of their emotional energy. The thing is that neither of my friends was complaining. In fact, each of them was saying "Despite the fact that I am going into chemotherapy in a month, despite the fact that I face doing a concert tour in a wheelchair, I am happy and I have big plans for my life going forward." Once again, my little inconveniences look silly in comparison. And I miss my friends desperately.

I also dropped an email to Sven - yes, THAT Sven, the subject of the novel currently being edited. Well, suffice to say that, although I pulled most of the events of the novel out of my ass imagination, they are nothing compared to his most recent ventures into dating. My friends are stranger than fiction.

And if I haven't talk to you in a while, I miss you too.