My Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Every time I write in a diary (or online journal for the world to see) I think of Cecily Cardew from The Importance of being Ernest. As far as my knowledge goes she had the most wonderful diary ever. (I have a bit of a penchant for books written in diary or letter fashion). Cecily's diary was only a small piece in the play and really only mentioned in reference but it still sticks with me. She wrote in it all the things she wanted to happen as if they had happened already. She was engaged, broke it off, got back together and experienced a mad array of adventures in between, all before ever even meeting Algernon, her betrothed. 

And, while Cecily is tinkering with a bit of crazy, I do believe she (or rather Mr. Wilde) has touched on something brilliant. Why shouldn't we write down the things we want to happen? Isn't that what The Secret was trying to teach us? I think The Secret was just ripping dear old Oscar off. Believe what you want as if it has already happened and it will. And if it doesn't you'll still have a grand ole time in the process. 

Well, my dear Diary,

I had the dreaded doctors appointment today. I hate it when they poke and prod at my wrist. It swells up and hurts so much. Well that's what I would normally say, isn't it? But today was different. They x-rayed and poked and prodded and twisted and not a painful moment was to be had. Amazing, I know! The kind doctor (she's kind now that she isn't hurting me) told me that she's never seen anything like it and what had I been doing because the recovery is miraculous. Apparently, get this diary, I am in full remission. There is no more blasted RA anywhere to be seen. Well I explained to her v plainly that I had been following some orders; eating healthy and exercising every day, but that I had actually stopped taking any of my medication. I do hate sticking myself with needles. I dont' know how diabetics do it every day. Obviously they are made of sterner stuff. I explained to her that I had met a witch doctor. I know he's called a homeopath, there's no need to scold, but I think he seems more like a witch doctor and really, isn't that more fun? Anyhow, I told her how I am taking the special magic pills every night. As they dissolve on my tongue I chant the special mantra I learned, "I am healthy, I am pain free and I am western medicine free." About that, you know that I just love western medicine. I don't know what I would do without aleve, especially after a harrowing night on the sauce, but I don't want the mantra to assume the medication is helping so I make sure to include that last bit. Well, the good doctor was overwhelmed and so happy for me. She gave a me a watermelon jolly rancher (the best flavor) and sent me on my way. It's too exciting for words, so instead of writing anymore, I am going for a run in the park and then I shall do push ups until I faint. 

much love, 

S