Pandemics iv.

Cheating Chicken Salad: Tyson Frozen Breaded Chicken Baked and Sliced over Greenery

"Poor Man's Supper" aka Ground Beef Stroganoff with Colorful Tossed Salad

Roasted Chicken Breast (KB-style), Packaged Stove top Rice and 2% Milk

Dill Pickle and Red Onion Diced for Cold Pasta Salad

Today marks the 2nd day of my 9th week in solitary confinement. I say "solitary" because I am, in fact, in solitude, yet "confinement" may suggest I am 100% restricted from leaving my apartment, which is not entirely the full truth. I can leave for essentials, an event which consists namely of striding Queens Boulevard in the direction of Manhattan (about 8 minutes brisk walk to my local grocery, with a liquor store stop along the way) or a stone's throw walk to the pharmacy across the street from my building. Yet it wearies me, this ongoing stay at home period. I feel so unpredictably interim, really.

Yesterday I performed the following functions:

Trimmed my head hair using eyebrow grooming scissors...turned out impressively adequate but that's easy enough considering I have thin, fine, straight, stupidly plain hair

Diced dill pickles and red onion and sharp cheddar (cheese not shown) for cold Ranch pasta salad

Applied for 2 construction project manager jobs

Took a field trip for Cream of Mushroom soup, milk and cheap wine

For dinner, concocted another round of stroganoff (last night's installment not pictured; above shown was my first quite delightful attempt in late April) using browned ground turkey, diced white onion, garlic powder, chicken broth, Cream of Mushroom soup, and hot cooked egg noodles, alongside buttered and salted corn...can I say again that the egg noodle has captured my stomach? I've been in much need of gaining weight what with all that I lost again during my own personal physical Pandemic, and the volume of food I ate last night was thrilling. I was actually full afterward.

And before I launch into the heartfelt content of this post, I want to confess that the Tyson Breaded Chicken Salad pictured above was phenomenal. I know it's lazy and borderline trashy but listen, what works for someone in isolation, works for someone in isolation. The stroganoff image I just referenced (going to get a graphic tee that reads "I (heart) Egg Noodles") and the other photo of chicken accompanied by packaged rice and washed down with a robust short glass of 2% milk represents another solid KB-style dinner, that one particularly possibly boring but filling and delicious regardless.

As I type, birds are chirping in Queens outside my windows, the sun is beginning rise and I'm feeling fully aware of my surroundings, thankfully.

Without further ado, and without yet completing the history of my hallucinations and hearing fictional voices during the week I was regaining physical composure, I'd like to pay props to my Quarantine Birthday Conference Call.

Transparency: I was bummed. Turning 43, the number, wasn't bothering me whatsoever. In fact, each new year in my 40's becomes an eye opening experience more so than the previous year, and I take pride in my wanting and willingness to age. I have to thank the genes and stars above for the fact that I don't come close to looking my age (or so I'm complimented, whether under false pretenses or not) (I'll take it!)...but of course, being under lock down and having no ability to physically celebrate with a hug or a smile in person was a let down.

So, taking matters into my own capable hands, I set up a conference call, sent out an invite days in advance, and requested merely that everyone bring to the table a poem for me, whether self-authored, found, doctored, or in any fashion felt suitable by birthday party participants. It was the actual 10-year anniversary of the first time I did that with friends, though, we got to gather at a bar physically and they were able to share to my face. 

Nonetheless, on the invite list: Dad, Ruth, Uncle Glenn, Uncle Gregg, Uncle Jim, Aunt Claudine, Gale, Rich & Tyler. 

We kicked off the call with introductions, primarily because Gale, Rich & Tyler were "meeting" my family for the first time and vice versa, so we went in alphabetical order by first names sharing brief bios, then went backward alphabetically to share poems because Tyler had to jump off for another call to which he had committed and he was texting me how proud he was of his poem; he wrote it himself, an Acrostic, and it was incredibly charming.

*Side Note: I did not invite Rob intentionally, as I did not feel that his "meeting" of a majority of my family for the first time should be on a call. Additionally, Gale & Rich reserve their rights to their reservations regarding Rob, and I didn't want any discomfort on the line. 

My entire family and the select friends on the phone offered their poetry with such passion and open love for me. I wish I could relive that couple of hours over and again, but some things are best left to be experienced once like that. Uncle Glenn surprised everyone by reading a piece I wrote when I was 14 about Grandma's reaction to Grandpa's failing health; there were misty eyes, and at the end of the reading the question came up from Uncle Gregg, Now, Glenn, did you write that or...? And Uncle Glenn said, No, no, I didn't...and after a moment I announced that I had penned it. Everyone was so kind and supportive and loving...they kept insisting that I "pick up a pen again" and in my mind I was like, Well, they don't know about this Elements page which is possibly a better emotional arrangement for me, although, I do often think about sharing the link to see if there is any interest.

Beautiful moments captured in that call. 

Afterward, I called Matthew, college best friend, who hates the phone and rarely responds. But that evening he was heavily inebriated and answered his phone and we talked for quite some time. He's also so loving of the KB and was in fact so enamored with speaking with me that he called (the next morning, actually) Mr. Vino (local Forest Hills wine store of mine) to order me 2 bottles of Grey Goose for my birthday present. Such a sweet gesture. I'm of course far, far off from the vodka these days, thankfully, because that stuff is overly toxic and unnecessary in this already toxic world.

I did also do FaceTime with Mom prior to the conference call. She's special - she knew I was doing the conference call and in a different time frame would have loved to have been part of it, too, but it would have been awkward.

I will say that she, maybe being my Mom and that's something I need to understand, decided to point out on the FT call that I had not shaved under my arms (and they're not that bad, frankly; they're like baby fine hairs.) That's the kind of message she sends out, that she's visually scrutinizing, but having never had a child of my own, maybe that's all part of the absence of boundaries that goes with the whole thing of it. 

Rob sent me 2 books for my birthday. As I mentioned, he had purchased tickets for us to see Hades Town which was the lovely ribbon-tied-with-a-bow gift on the stack of my presents, but it was canceled (thanks again, Pandemic) so we'll have to celebrate in some other way, some other time.

Now, off to another day of job, soul, mind and food searching.