As I write this, I am mourning the loss of having finished The Night Shift on Netflix. I am imbibing some generic strawberry lemonade energy drinks strongly laced with too much gin. I am craving potato chips, cuddling my cat Fog, and nursing my injuries from the day.
But perhaps I need to back up…
The photos above summarize my Halloween.
At 11 a.m., we had an appointment for Danu and her babies from the Celtic Pride— Aîné, Baile and Brigid and our newest foster, Georgie, to meet our foster cat godmother for shots, flea treatment, dewormer and microchip and OH MY GOODNESS was Georgie dramatic.
Then the teenager had a commitment to walk in the local Halloween parade and she asked me yesterday to walk with her as she paraded in costume. I will do anything my daughter asks.
And half way through the parade, I fell flat on my face to the collective gasp of the crowd. I rise, keep walking, hip and knee in pain. But I keep going.
#f*ckcerebralpalsy.
I finished the parade. Outside the teenager’s high school. Her father and herself know that the fact that I finished the parade did not mean I was okay as I have been known to do things like walk a Chinese buffet with a broken ankle.
My knee is swollen. I tripped over a mirror late in the day that struck me in the tender parts.
My back hurts.
I am craving potato chips as my body adjusts to the Mirena.
My princess, the male cat I jokingly named Fog, is curled up next to me. He is my baby.
The teenager’s dad came over and they carved pumpkins and I typed some of a manuscript for the identity anthology. We handed out candy and even the dog got to enjoy trick-or-treat.
I ordered Wawa for dinner— the teenager’s favorite ranch Mac and cheese, chicken Caesar salad and pierogie quesadilla and Blizzards from Dairy Queen for dessert.
Tomorrow the teenager is consulting a cleaning woman to take some of the stress off me.
My husband and I celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary today and, even though we have been separated for two-and-a-half years, we inadvertently spent it together.
My mother celebrated her 67th birthday today, and I postponed her birthday until next week because one of her brothers died on Thursday. The second brother to die of prostate cancer in about a month. And her ex-brother-in-law died last week, too.
The day started strong with the teenager and I killing our workout at Apex Training with Dan. I also ordered an Apex Training hoodie. The teenager and I benched 70lbs on the barbell, and the teen also did some hearty squats.
We signed five cats up for the “come adopt us” event with Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab. One of them was sweet Khloe. Khloe hid under the blanket with one eye poking out the whole time, until she heard my voice, then she came out. Not bad for a first day out.
Photo of me waking up with a Khloe scarf
So the husband came over to retrieve his car from the teen and do his laundry and assign his ISBN to his poetry manuscript.
He then rewarded us with pizza.
I did some more work for Parisian Phoenix and some more cleaning, and then the teenager asked me to come down to the diner for coffee and my favorite pie.
Photo: waiting for my daughter at Tic Toc Family Restaurant
This morning my legs felt more normal than they have in weeks and everything seemed to be working in coordination. But as the day wore on everything started stiffening up. It was the first time in about a month my right quad wasn’t burning all day.
It’s is almost 3:30 p.m. on a crisp autumn Friday afternoon. I normally would be standing in front of the daily work schedule at the warehouse, but today they offered us voluntary time off. And my body needs it.
I had a chiropractor appointment today, about ten days after my last one. I described my symptoms as a lot of back pain that made basic movements like stretching in front of me to move a pile of clothes from one spot to another very uncomfortable, to my left leg feeling immobile like a tree trunk while my right was very flexible but weak and prone to discomfort.
And she noted that my left hip was stiff and locked in a position out of alignment. And she concurs with my assessment that it’s time to ask my doctor for some x-rays.
She asked what I was doing this weekend as she moved my bones around and I answered I had some work to do for my publishing company and that I have to drop a copy of my novel off at the Mary Meuser Memorial Library, my local public library.
And she thought I meant an overdue library book.
So, I corrected her.
And then she and her staff, the three of them, engaged me in a lively conversation about my book as the bought copies.
I did stop at the library. I did give them a copy. The teenager is appearing in the Wilson Centennial/Halloween parade with the library staff as the library mouse.
Last night, I had an interesting text message from a former colleague who left my last place of employment around the same time the man who hired me also left. She apparently has landed in a much better place, two years later, at a similar nonprofit with a larger service area. She texted me as I was pulling into the parking lot at the Hizzy and asked me if I would consider a position in her office.
I sent her the resume I had on my phone and she talked to her boss on my behalf.
Because I was “awesome” and “under appreciated” at my last nonprofit position.
Regardless of if or when this goes anywhere, it’s always uplifting to see that someone acknowledges who you are and what you have been through.
Another thing that can be frustrating or uplifting, our dog, F. Bean Barker, the black lab, pit bull and mastiff mix
We left work early last night, after shipping about 1900 men’s fixes. I have this equation I work in my head. On nights when they offer us VTO (voluntary time off), I survey the valleys of people doing my job. I count them roughly, using my journalist-surveying the crowd skills, and then I estimate, based on who I see and their skill levels, how many fixes I think we will be able to ship an hour. Then, when the leads call out our progress announcing how many we have shipped or how many we have left, I do the math in my head.
And last night, when they suggested that we could VTO after shipping 1840 fixes, I did my calculation (and gave more extra time since most of us and very inexperienced in men’s fixues) and thought we would be done by 9:30. The leads kept suggesting about 10 p.m. But I trusted my gut. And sure enough, we got the call of VTO at 9:20.
Also today, I have been editing and doing projects for Parisian Phoenix with breaks when my eyes hurt. I use those breaks to clean, because the teenager has booked a consultation with a cleaning lady for Monday. Her idea is if we have someone help me with the vacuuming, dusting, floors, nose-printed windows, and bathroom maintenance that maybe it would be easier for me to survive my bad days and get ahead on so many projects we have.
I did some furniture rearranging and my floor scrubbing and a whole lot of laundry, including I finally took the time to empty the chest on our sun porch and move the “winter things” into the hope chest we brought downstairs to sit under the winter coats on their hooks more than a year ago.
Oz, one of our personal cats, is on my lap while I work today.
After I update my blog and the Parisian Phoenix website with the story of how I accidentally started a podcast, my next task will be to explore the handwritten manuscript that one of our authors prepared for me. I’ve been looking forward to her tale for quite some time, but I don’t have the best typing skills so I have been saving it for a day when I have a nice block of uninterrupted time.
And then, I will rest by folding laundry. And when the teenager returns home from her waitressing gig, we will have tacos for dinner.
Tomorrow FIVE of our Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab fosters are headed to Petsmart for the adoption meet and greet. These babies need homes!
We signed up: Khloe (a four or so year old female grey torbie), Slim Shady and Eminem (the bestest, sweetest kittens ever, Shady is a black female and Em is a grey tabby with white feet, male) and Mars and Minerva, the tuxedo siblings who have been in foster for more than a year.
This is another in a series of posts about trying to learn about my cerebral palsy and improve life in my body in general.
As sometimes happen, I woke in pain. I took two Tylenol PM last night so the pain didn’t keep me awake though my cat kept trying to intimidate one of my fosters so that made the six hours of sleep I got rather restless.
I woke to an alarm at shortly after 8 a.m. as I had to be at a doctor’s appointment at 10:05ish and the office is 20 minutes away.
Today was the rescheduled appointment to get my Mirena IUD that will hopefully reduce my heavy menstrual bleeding and my back pain from menstrual cramps. I had another new-to-me doctor today, and this one had an amazing sense of humor.
She was also the first doctor to ask me, upon hearing I had cerebral palsy, if there was anything she needed to do or be aware of to help me. In my case, the answer is no. But if I had worse issues with my flexibility and lower limbs, this would be a good question.
This is my third IUD, although my first Mirena. So nothing unexpected happened during insertion.
There was a pinch here and there and the doctor told me to take ibuprofen for the initial cramping. And to be prepared for a period that might be weird for the next few months. Every woman reacts differently but I may see my periods lighten or even skip cycles.
I did experience some light cramping and spotting but nothing to require OTC painkillers.
But, once I got to work, my right leg seemed to be impossible to control with my quad and knee burning. My ankles also started to burn. My lower back just throbbed, regardless of whether I was twisting or standing still.
By the end of the night I struggled to reach forward or to lift the pile of clothes.
I only QCed 92 fixes. That’s almost 71% of goal. Now granted tonight we were in the men’s Hizzy for the first time ever. It took me 4.5 minutes to do fixes that in women’s takes less than 3.
And they have such nicely organized work stations with drawers.
While listening to my first podcast of the night— 60 songs that explain the 90s— i discovered that Weird Al donated the profits from “Achy Breaky Song” to the cerebral palsy foundation.
My British colleague asked why I’m not on disability. That made me wonder how bad I must look if she says that to me.
In good news, let me regale you as I drink my last pins colada lemonade gin cocktail, the teenager is very excited about the new soap dispenser she bought.
I did a thing and did a soft launch on a Parisian Phoenix podcast on Spotify. I thought my blind friend, Nancy, would like it.
Sometimes, as members of the human race, we have days that are full of delights from sun-up to sundown. Those days are rare, but often involve a leisurely day with the family, a vacation or a holiday.
Then there are days that are good despite— or perhaps because of — their imperfections and today was one of those days.
Maybe today was my “bones day” after all. If you don’t get the reference, it’s a prognosticating pug on TikTok (read more here).
I was originally going to blog this on the Parisian Phoenix website, but I thought I could be more honest and personal here. So here I am.
I came home from work in a lot of pain last night. I achieved 90% in my work metrics and came home, once again, in the kind of pain that leaves me crying and nauseous. Part of a marker for bad pain for me is if the pain interferes with my sleep and/or does not dissipate by morning.
I did not sleep well and I woke in pain.
But, I got up, got dressed, combed my hair and put on makeup. Because today was the Easton Book Festival. It might have been cold and rainy, but I was putting my best foot forward, even if the discomfort made it hard to put a shoe on that foot.
Now, here’s the thing.
Easton has been a part of my life for more than 25 years. Even now, I live very close to Easton. I can walk there.
Book and Puppet Company has been a part of our lives for quite some time. The teenager’s father connected with the owners of the independent bookstore. The teenager had a career as a contained character there.
Andy Laties of Book and Puppet founded the Easton Book Festival three years ago. I even appeared in the original “Read a Book” video— and they also featured a Muslim student in hijab outside the literacy center at my last non-profit job in development at ProJeCt of Easton.
My supervisor there quickly forgot the things I did well, like that placement and our involvement in the Easton Downtown Association scarecrow competition, in which they still participate. But I digress.
The teenager’s father now serves on the board of the Easton Book Festival, so when they organized a local author’s event, he invited me.
One month into Parisian Phoenix’s launch and I have a promotional spot. I didn’t sell enough books to pay for the small expenses of the event: parking, coffee, book printing (but hey, I would have needed those anyway), and the copy of the inaugural issue of the Lehigh Valley Literary Magazine I bought. And an overpriced breakfast.
But one person not only bought my book, but also came back specifically to hear me read. So that was touching.
I read a scene from the sequel to MANIPULATIONS, COURTING APPARITIONS where the villain performs a magical ritual in downtown Easton.
It was my first “reading out” in years!
I kept it very brief, because some others had run long and we were all tired.
Until the YouTube video drops— you should be able to view the Facebook live here.
I had intended to join the teenager’s father at one of the last poetry events of the festival, but I was frozen so I came home instead.
My neighbor, aka Sobaka’s mom, has now formally joined the Parisian Phoenix team as a proofread. She says we need to talk about chapters 1 & 2 of COURTING APPARITIONS tomorrow.
The teenager’s father received the copyright for his upcoming poetry chapbook so that could be going to press in a few weeks.
And tomorrow I hope to make applesauce, post some new material from Rachel Thompson on the Parisian Phoenix blog, and start typing Maryann Stephanie Ignatz’s material.
I even got to have dinner at my favorite diner with my neighbor to celebrate Jan’s official status as part of the Parisian Phoenix team.
This post is both a brief review of the Postmodern Jukebox performance at the State Theatre for the Arts and a brief update as to my current condition struggling with cerebral palsy.
Monday night I performed well at work, but by the end of the night my right leg and hip were screaming in pain, to the extent where I grew nauseous. I woke up still in pain but had no trouble performing an upper body workout with my trainer, Dan, at Apex Training.
The teenager, recovering from last week’s ear infection, and I did some barbell bench press.
But on the walk home, I was struggling with function in that leg and pain in my knee.
I knew I had a chiropractor appointment with my beloved Nicole Jenson of Back in Line on Wednesday morning so Tuesday night, I called out.
Since the warehouse is encouraging people to take voluntary time off, I called out for Tuesday, took voluntarily time for Wednesday, in addition to the planned time off I had scheduled for Thursday.
The teenager had an appointment with a new ENT today — he put her head under a microscope, pulled out her ear tubes and gave her ears a good cleaning. More importantly, he explained all the different functionality of the ears.
The audiologist gave her a hearing test and she rapidly discovered— the teenager, not the audiologist— that her musical inclinations have allowed her to inadvertently fake the hearing tests at her childhood ENT’s office.
So the audiologist said that the teenager is a good candidate for hearing aids.
We had a leisurely afternoon which included a delivery of apples from my friend Joan who has tasked me with converting them into applesauce and apple butter.
And then… we (the teenager and I) finally embarked on our date, much anticipated by me. The teenager took me out for pancakes.
And then we headed downtown to the State Theatre for the Arts to see Postmodern Jukebox. #pmjtour
The amazing parking spot we procured had a three hour limit, but both the physical meter and the parking app would only let me apply 1 hour and 24 minutes. So, as that was set to expire at 7:23, I used the app to apply that final 45 minutes from inside the theater.
On the way there we passed Hoza, the new African/Zimbabwean restaurant downtown. Very excited to try it.
But the show— blew my mind. The vocals and musicianship was incredible, the costumes a delight and the arrangements of the music on point.
Parisian Phoenix Publishing, a boutique independent press representing unique voices and diverse perspectives, will make its first public appearence with a reading by founder and author Angel Ackerman at the Easton Book Festival at 3 p.m. October 23.
Parisian Phoenix debuted its titles September 11 with Ackerman’s horror Fashion and Fiends series, volume 1, Manipulations, a novel where supernatural forces stalk members of the high fashion world. Much of the novel takes place in various settings of the Lehigh Valley.
The third annual Easton Book Festival ends Sunday, October 24.
Readings occur at 22 Centre Square in Easton, near independent bookseller Book and Puppet Company and The Crayola Experience.
Former journalist Angel Ackerman, a Slate Belt native and Wilson Borough resident, founded Parisian Phoenix with graphic design professor Gayle Hendricks from South Bethlehem.
The second volume of the series, Courting Apparitions, will release in late November. Upcoming titles…
Author’s note: this post will contain some language I don’t usually use in my blog posts, probably only the word ‘bitch.’ But you’ve been warned
Roaming Rooster take-out
A kick ass chicken sandwich and tangy, refreshing coleslaw
Stale nasty popcorn
At work for Parisian Phoenix
Lincoln Memorial
Pentagon
Watergate
Watergate, detail
Lebanese Flatbreads
Dried fruit
Road Trip Energy
A few weeks ago, M (my friend from college and traveling companion for the last decade) made arrangements that I would come to Washington DC to deliver popcorn, give M a copy of my novel MANIPULATIONS (order here), discuss upcoming projects for Parisian Phoenix, and relax.
The hope was that my “day job” at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy would offer us voluntary time off between 7:30 and 10 p.m. Friday night and that I might have off Monday.
I could arrive in D.C. late Friday night and stay until lunch time Monday.
Except on Wednesday, I was reminded I had a 9 a.m. doctor appointment Monday. But, it could easily be virtual. So no big.
But then we didn’t get out early Friday. And I didn’t have Monday off. But also my supervisor stopped by for an observation and despite spasming back muscles I performed at 96% and finished the night at 129 fixes, which is 99.2%. I could have hit 100, but I helped a colleague who is struggling to learn QC.
I arrived home very grumpy at 12:30 a.m., left my purse and suitcase in the car (with my toothbrush no less), and ran in the house to release Misty from his crate (the teenager forgot him) and put the dog to bed.
I took a shower and collapsed in bed naked as my alarm was set for 7:45 and it was 1:10 a.m. Now, M calls me crazy bitch (or CB for short) as I am prone to do things like drive to his house for dinner. And the idea of getting six hours sleep and heading to DC for a 24 hour visit is another crazy bitch move.
But then the cats starting fighting at 2 a.m. So now I’m super-annoyed, naked, and turning on my roomba to scare my personal cat Fog out of my room. He’s the asshole that scares the fosters.
Now I’m down to about five hours before I leave for DC.
At 7:45, my alarm goes off. I clean cat boxes, feed the birds, check food bowls, get dressed and leave the house by 8:15. I stop at Dunkin to grab a cold brew and try the new peanut butter cup flavor. They screwed up and gave me pumpkin. The teenager had purchased me candy — so I had Haribo berries for breakfast/ road trip fuel.
I was on the road by 8:30 a.m. Stopped at a rest stop outside Hershey around 10:30 a.m., then decided it wisest to stop outside the Baltimore loop in Hereford, Md., for gas. I ended up at an Exxon and I needed to pee, but my gut said this wasn’t the place.
But Carly Simon was singing You’re so vain on a loudspeaker at the creepy gas station. And there is a short story I wrote— that may be completely lost— where one of the main characters in my Fashion and Fiends horror book series gives his virginity to an older girl at a party. The character is Étienne d’Amille, the girl is Arlette (who makes an appearance in Manipulations), the year is 1973 (I think) and Arlette is singing You’re sovain when they meet.
I arrived in DC at noon and had no trouble finding parking despite youth soccer games less than a block from M’s house. City parking. During a soccer game.
Finally some good luck.
But PS— the popcorn was stale and nasty.
M ordered some chicken sandwiches and fries from Roaming Rooster. We ate, made coffee, changed into sweatpants and started to chat. Eventually I started editing manuscripts for Parisian Phoenix and M enjoyed several episodes of Dr. Pimple Popper.
M also reviewed my bloodwork, as he works in a medical lab.
Meanwhile his housemates, my Indian friends, couldn’t believe I drove all that way… to sit around and do nothing.
In the morning, we drank more coffee. I did some more work and we drove To Alexandria, Va., to visit the Mediterranean Bakery so M could get his fresh pita for the week and we had breakfast of Lebanese flatbread— one with cheeses and another with zaatar and labneh. We washed it down with mint Aryam yogurt drink. M informed me that if I mispronounce it, I will be saying “two testicles” in Arabic.
I purchased some goodies for the teenager (pita chips with zaatar, halva and dried kiwi) and some candy and chocolate covered espresso beans for the drive home. And some spices and harissa.
Then I had a cup of coffee and drove home. I left at 2:45 pm. I was in DC for 25 hours.
And on the way home, Spotify played Carly Simon’s Nobody does it better. That song came from a James Bond movie, The Spy Who Loved Me. Étienne is also a huge Bond fan. Again, James Bond has a few appearances in Manipulations.
It’s Angel, and I’m writing from my Washington, D.C., office. I had hoped that conditions would allow me to come down yesterday, but I couldn’t leave until this morning. And, sadly, I had hoped to stay until Monday, leaving around noon, but a 9 a.m. doctor’s appointment on Monday may call my visit short.
But even a few hours in D.C. will recharge my batteries and allow me some focus and relaxation. It’s a wonderful feeling to edit in a familiar but fresh environment, and it’s almost like being off the grid and allows me to work relatively undisturbed with lots of coffee at my disposal.
If you know me, or if you visit some of my travel stories (or if you went to college with me), you may know my companion, M. I’m here hoping to inspire him to write a piece for the upcoming identity…
Angel Ackerman 