Carol Lynn Rivera

Life. In Many, Many Words.

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In Which We Are Reminded That The Universe Is Indifferent

January 2, 2014 By Carol Lynn 18 Comments

Bingo lying on her matWe had plans for the holiday.

We were going to spend Christmas Eve with my parents and brothers and their significant others – something we haven’t been able to do for ten years. We were going to spend Christmas Day on a blogging streak and then prep early with cake and popcorn for the Doctor Who special.

We were planning two weeks of alternating between super intensive get-stuff-done time and super intensive do-nothing-and-have-a-beer time.

Alas.

The universe didn’t care.

I was tempted just then to write, “The universe had different plans,” but the universe has no plans. It just is.

Indifferent to all things we want and expect and hope for, it keeps doing what universes do.

On a good day I find that comforting. I like the idea of existence just because. Things that happen, not for a good reason or for a bad reason, but just because that’s the way they are. If you stop worrying about whys and judgments and stop waiting for explanations, it can be very peaceful.

This year I found no comfort in that as I sat in the emergency room of the veterinary hospital at midnight on Christmas Eve, waiting to find out if my cat would live or die. Knowing I was going to miss Christmas with my family – the presents, the cookies, the oversized tree – because I was sitting in a veterinary hospital waiting for my cat to live or die. [Read more…]

Filed Under: Life: Unedited

Sometimes You Just Want A Smurf

December 12, 2013 By Carol Lynn 10 Comments

SmurfsSometimes odd memories strike me.

This one was brought on by a combination of the oncoming holidays and a post about stupid gift exchanges written by my friend Andi-Roo, who I have only met once, but it was to much laughter and throwing of glitter. I find her both brutally honest and hilarious. You will probably find her NSFW. Fair warning.

Anyway, this particular memory is about one Christmas season when I was in maybe sixth grade. As per stupid small-town public school tradition (at least where I grew up), we had our yearly “grab bag”. That meant a teacher told us how much we could spend and then we went home and asked our parents to spend it so we could bring some trinket to class for the grab bag. [Read more…]

Filed Under: On Being Ungrateful

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