Let's Rap

And every single person is a Slim Shady lurkin'
He could be workin at Burger King spitten on your onion rings
Or in the parking lot circling screaming I don't give a *&@#
With his windows down and system up
So will the real Shady, please stand up
and put one of those fingers on each hand up
and to be proud to be outta your mind and outta control and one more time,
loud as you can, how does it go?
I'm Slim Shady Yes I'm the real Shady
All you other Slim Shadys are just imitating
So won't the real Slim Shady...
Please stand up, Please stand up,
Please stand up
becuase I'm Slim Shady Yes I'm the real Shady
All you other Slim Shadys are just imitating
So won't the real Slim shady...
Please stand up,
Please stand up,
Please stand up

"The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem

"Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?" I am a study in contrasts. This is something I realized recently - recently while trying to get my old life back. See, there were just too many nasty, ugly things that happened to me last year. If you read this blog, then you know that my daughter died. If you read this blog, then you also know that I have (had?) breast cancer. You may know that I moved recently - and didn't particularly want to move, if you get my drift. These are all things that would be life changing situations at any time of our lives, much less all in one year. So, how do I get back to normal? What is normal? Was I even normal to begin with? I am an imposter in my own body, it seems.

Back to who I am and why I may need Robert Downey, Jr. to suspend filming the Sherlock Holmes movie and use his newly developed investigatory skills to help me figure this all out - nothing makes sense anymore! I don't look like a normal person. True, I try. I wear a wig, most days anyway. Some days I think it looks somewhat realistic, but other days it really does look like a brown football helmet. It's ok - you don't have to call me and tell me that it doesn't. Let's just not talk about it, ok? Besides, my lack of hair isn't that noticeable when my arms are two complete different sizes. I have one little elbow and one huge elbow - and that trend continues all the way down my arm. I look like a PTA version of Hellboy, proudly thrusting my stonehand at random nurses, cashiers, and unsuspecting hand-shakers all over town. Oh....and if you get past my "Two Face" body (get it, I'm somehow working all these comic book characters in my blog! First Hellboy, then Two Face, who had two different faces - I have two different arms??? Ok! It's a stretch & there's no Sherlock Holmes comic book, is there?), I'm sporting the ever trendy "turning brown fingernails look" on BOTH HANDS. Now, I'm working on all of these issues. The hair is growing - not very evenly, true - but growing nonetheless. The big arm will correct itself at some point, I hope, but nothing will happen in this area for at least another month, if not longer. I am told that the nails PROBABLY won't fall off, but will turn much darker before s-l-o-w-l-y growing out to reveal squeaky clean nails one day. Still, getting the imposter that I am back to looking like normal me is hard work.

Some things have drastically improved lately. After months of self-imposed exile, I do actually get out and about all by myself now. I have a car to drive again, after Chynna's car finally passed inspection! The air-conditioner doesn't work, and it smells like it caught on fire by the time I get to my destination, but it runs and it gets me where I need to go. I take baby steps. For 3 weeks I've been driving myself to and from radiation everyday, but nowhere else. Yesterday I decided to try on my old life, just for one afternoon, and run some errands - all by myself, big girl that I am. I went to radiation, true, but I also went to GardenRidge, to Kroger, and then, finally to visit my daughter. Which is another contrast altogether.

GardenRidge is amazing, isn't it? Forget LLCoolJ - what ladies really love is some discount home goods. Can I get an amen? I perused down each and every aisle, concentrating on the sights and smells of a place I hadn't been, alone anyway, in months. I pretended to be interested in candles. I touched all of the tablecloths trying to decide which one would be a perfect match in my dining room, even though I did not intend to buy one. I feigned excitement over the cookbooks in the front. But I walked out with something altogether different. I would never have imagined, that with all the beautiful things in such a store, that what I would be valiantly in search of....would be the perfect flowers for my daughter's headstone. And, that is what I bought. What a contrast. I also went to Kroger and bought dinner components and a bottle of wine. Not because I was throwing an impromptu dinner party, but because I knew I would need some alone time soon - a cocooning of sorts, where a glass of wine and a bubble bath can really help confront that old self that harbors a little charcoal ember of "why me" deep down in the center of my soul. So, that is also what I bought. What a contrast.

I will never be normal again, but that's ok with me. I will still get out, still go to the same old places, and, hopefully, begin looking like myself on the outside. My internal motive, however, will always be different. As I sat on the ground at the cemetery yesterday, after presenting her with identical bouquets of white lilies, straightening all of the charms on the Chynnatree and putting a feather boa collar on the statue of Berkley, I reminded my daughter how much I still miss her. I also reinforced some promises, like the promise to never forget her, the promise to never let the poinsettias stay on her headstone until January 21st again, and the promise to bring the real Berkley for a visit very soon. And, then I came home to my new normal life. I think the real Dina stood up today.