I have started this post three times now because each thing I wrote strayed from “the script” as Nathan Bransford would say.  It strayed from my personal script, which is guided by internal discomfort when I think about how my words might offend another person.  (Especially when my need to say those words is less than the weight of the words.)  It strayed from the more general, societal script of “everything is a-okay.”

Everything is a-okay.

See, I just stuck to the script.

Nathan’s post is about how we have loose scripts we use when speaking with one another.  I say X and you say Y.  I say that I’m tired, and you offer sympathy.  You say that you’re going on vacation, and I express excitement as I ask you for details.

We expect to hear back certain words, especially if we say certain words.  For instance, if I ask you how you are, even if you just had a loss, you’ll probably give me some version of fine.

But if I ask you, “How are you doing with everything today since I know that answer probably changes from day-to-day?”, it opens up the script to go in a different direction.  I’m not asking out of politeness.  I’m asking because I want a real answer, and changing the script does that.  It signals a different response should occur.

Of course, that’s still a script.  But it’s not the script.

I loved his post because he points out how people fight back when you don’t say what they want you to say.  When you don’t express happiness when they think you should be expressing happiness.  Or when you’re not feeling sad despite the fact that they think you should be home, in mourning.

Seek out these good people who will let you complain when you’re “supposed” to be happy and let you be happy when you’re “supposed” to be sad.

But most importantly, ignore the rigid people out there who try to make you feel badly because you’re flipping their script. They’re not seeing you as a human being, they’re seeing you as a faulty computer program.

It’s a good reminder that we all need to change the script — in our writing and in our everyday life.  Whatever your characters say first, erase it and have them say something better.  Whatever you think to say first, pause for a moment and ask yourself, “how can I change a few words and change the whole script?”

His post is about publishing, but it’s applicable to every facet of life.  It gave me a new aim: To stop trying to come up with the perfect words and instead just come up with different words; anything that strays from the script and takes the well-worn conversations in an entirely new direction.

We have emergency rooms for physical injuries, but where are the emergency rooms for battered souls?

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I clicked on the headline because it promised me refuge from mentally looping through the news about North Korea for a 3000th time.  A Jordan Bookseller’s 24-Hour ‘Emergency Room for the Mind’.

The article gave me so much more than that — even from afar; even without visiting the actual space — because it is about a bookstore that is battling the hate the bookseller witnesses around him with positive manuscripts that spread sound ideas.

The bookseller never closes his store.  He sleeps in his shop, and if you need a volume — if you need emergency literature, the right story to reset your mind — you enter and he’ll guide you to the right text.  It’s a safe space for words.  A safe space for ideas.  The bookstore “is a haven, one of the few places on earth where nothing matters more than a love of books.”

I spend a lot of time feeling anxious, beginning in the morning when I scan the headlines, moving into the day when I’m bombarded by news due to my job, and ending at night when I lie in bed and think about all of the things that happened that day.  How tenuous the world feels.  I cannot stop reading the news unless I change my job, and I know tuning out the news doesn’t make the reported events stop.

Maybe the way to battle that anxiety is not by retreating from words but instead find different words.  They don’t undo what you know is outside your door, but at least you’re giving yourself a break on what you invite inside your mind.

I bought a bunch of books recently and checked out others from the library.  Too many to possibly read at the moment, but I’d rather have books overflowing than no new ones to begin.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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Linus’s breeder announced that she has a few new guinea pig babies that will be ready for homes in the next month.  There is something about hearing this news coupled with Easter and the onslaught of baby animal pictures that is making me open up an email to her and then close it without sending.

I want another guinea pig.  I don’t want another guinea pig.

Maybe I just want a Cadbury egg.  The ice cream shop at the beach posted a picture of sweet cream ice cream with chunks of Cadbury egg, drizzled with caramel.

Are you off for Easter?  Are you doing anything good with your day off?

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Some people have a normal love of magic.  I have an unusual love of magic.  That’s like… 12 notches higher than normal love.

Every time I get a new bullet journal, I transfer my list of things I love and the top two items are

1. Magic (real)
2. Magic (illusions)

I’m just setting the scene so you can understand why I almost passed out when I got to go up on stage during a tech rehearsal for The Magic Play.

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What is The Magic Play?  The way I described it after seeing it is that it’s the turducken of theater.  It’s a magic show inside a play inside a much larger question: how do we trust one another?

(Side note: I am really trying to get someone to fall in love with calling this the “turducken of theater.”  So far, every time I’ve said it, people have stared at me blankly and then treated the moment as if I blurted out that I love streaking.)

It’s a new play having a rolling world premiere, and DC was picked as one of the cities (specifically the Olney Theatre).  The magician in the show is also an actor, and as he performs the various tricks, he’s telling the story of how he broke up with his boyfriend.  So you’re seeing real magic tricks (and they’re amazing — more on that in a second) while hearing a story and then considering this larger philosophical question.  There are three actors in the play — the magician, his ex-boyfriend, and the magician’s father.

After we saw the show, I learned that Jim Steinmeyer consulted on it.  THE Jim Steinmeyer, the guy who created David Copperfield’s disappearing Statue of Liberty trick.  The guy who adds magic to Disney shows.  Magical historian and magical inventor extraordinaire.  If you have an unusual love of magic, you know Steinmeyer.

Anyway, the magician pulls members of the audience up on the stage a few times, and I got chosen for the first trick in the play.  I don’t want to ruin it for anyone in case you get a chance to see the play, but it is such an emotional moment in the show — a mind-blowing trick coupled with a story about how the magician’s ex-boyfriend left him — that I started getting teary.  And I forgot there was anyone else in the theater in that moment because I was holding onto a pack of cards (oh!  And he let me keep the cards at the end of the trick so they have entered prize possession land) and staring into the magician’s eyes.  Chills, people.

Brett Schneider is incredible. Jon Hudson Odom dives from a 9-foot diving board on the stage. I spent the whole night gasping.

It has been to Chicago and it’s in DC for the next few weeks, and I have no clue where it is going next.  But if you get a chance to see it, run, don’t walk to the theater.  Beyond seeing Josh’s plays, which are the best written plays I’ve ever seen (and I’m not just saying that because I once inspired a line in one of his plays), this was my second most emotional, favourite theater moment.

I love real magic.  I love illusionary magic.  I love The Magic Play.  That is a lot of love.

Images by Stan Barouh (used with permission)

The Guardian had a really good story about two Lisa Davises born on the same day and living in the same city that New York cannot seem to tell apart.  It’s not identity theft because they’re not trying to fool anyone, but this fact leads to some very annoying situations.  It has also led to a very eye-opening look into how black and white women are treated in the city.  Let’s just say that what happens to one Lisa Davis doesn’t happen to the other Lisa Davis.

Definitely worth a read if you’re looking for something extra to devour this weekend.

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It’s Pesach.  It’s hard to know that there is so much pasta in the world, and none of it can go into my body right now.  A fine layer of matzah crumb covers every surface.  Linus decided that he LOVES matzah, just loves it so damn much.  He stands on his hind legs and begs every time someone eats a piece in front of him.  He looks back and forth between the piece of matzah and the person’s mouth, wheeking pathetically.  “Please,” he says.  “Give me one tiny bite of that matzah goodness.”

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Stop procrastinating.  Go make your backups.  Don’t have regrets.

Seriously.  Stop what you’re doing for a moment.  It will take you fifteen minutes, tops.  But you will have peace of mind for days and days.  It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “A Beautiful Mess of Motherhood” (My Path to Mommyhood)
• “The Gift of Acceptance” (No Kidding in NZ)
• “Ten Ways I’m Rocking Motherhood” (Torthúil)

Okay, now my choices this week.

While not as eloquent as Ariel Levy speaking about loss, I was grateful that Nancy Kerrigan stepped forward this week to speak about her six miscarriages.  Secondary infertility rarely gets coverage, and it goes a long way in cluing in the general public to the fact that you can experience infertility even after having a child.

Terppsicore has a post about how easy it was to connect with another person when we were kids compared to how difficult it can be as an adult.  I won’t ruin the story by saying much more, so you’ll have to click over to read the brief piece.

Lastly, Bereaved and Blessed is celebrating her tenth blogoversary.  She sums up her blogging experience over the course of the year with a single word, but the interesting thing is that she doesn’t set the word before the year has happened.  She states it at the end to summarize how the year has actually gone.  Which means it goes hand-in-hand with a lot of reflection on your old posts.  It’s a fantastic idea, one I may steal in June when I come up to my blogoversary.

The roundup to the Roundup: A tale of two Lisas.  Linus wants matzah.  Your weekly backup nudge.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between April 7th and April 14th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.