Easter Prunes

I believe in God; I just don’t trust anyone who works for him. ~Author unknown

The Easter Bunny left my daughter a very nice letter, in case you were wondering. For the record the Easter Bunny was born on March 12th. His favorite color is pink and his favorite food is carrots. Not actual facts…just according to me.

I don’t celebrate the holiday because I don’t get it. Christ is risen? What does that mean? Seriously, didn’t he die thousands of years ago? How does he rise if he’s dead? No disrespect to those of you who celebrate this holiday but I’ve only read small parts of the Bible and attended church on a handful of occasions. These are all rhetorical questions and feel free to tell me I’m going to rot in hell. I’ve already accepted that you think that’s where I’m going.

I celebrated the rituals of Passover with my mother and stepfather as a child. We would go to my stepfather’s parents house in Philadelphia every year. My favorite part of celebrating Passover were the dinners, the Jewish Apple Cake and the part where I got to get up and open the door after sitting at the table for what seemed like three hours.

After a week of listening to my mother tell me about the evils of pork during Passover she shipped me off for Easter weekend at my father’s house. There I was forced to eat ham for Easter dinner. One year there were even some prunes….Easter prunes.

Last Easter I was in the hospital and it was the first time I was allowed to eat food after three weeks and two surgeries. Because there was such a great emphasis on having a bowel movement made by the doctors and nurses I thought I’d help things along. I ordered prune juice and prunes for breakfast. Ah, there’s nothing better than an Easter prune.

Let me tell you something about prunes. They work. They clean out your entire system. Quickly. If you have a perforated bowel then you will be in such incredible pain your ass will end up in the operating room like mine did. Prunes put my ass in a drug-induced coma for three weeks. O.K. the doctor put me in the coma but the prunes got the ball rolling.

Like I said, Easter prunes baby, Easter prunes.

Does it sound like I think this is funny? Well, let’s think about it. I’ve felt completely shitty for the past several weeks, uh, months. Everyday I plaster a smile on my face and go to work. They’d never know what’s going on in a million years because I’m that good. Do you have any idea how much energy that consumes?

Every week that goes by I feel increasingly sicker. I took a picture of myself on Thursday just so I could see for myself how bad I look because I can look away from a mirror. A picture just stares at me. Me, being me, posted the picture on Flickr and made notes all over my face to amuse myself.

So now I just feel like a sick heathen who managed to stay away from the Easter prunes this year. Did anyone get any Peeps? Not people…Peeps!

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