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Arm Party!

Today I woke up and had a coffee. A cappuccino, actually.

Coffee, and by extension, cappuccinos, aren’t technically legit on this here cleanse I’m doing, nor, presumably is the unrefrigerated milk product that shoots out of the little tassimo pod to make that delicious milky frothy cappuccino topping, but I mean, who’s really keeping track here?

(shut up)

Life is about indulgence. I decided that just now. While drinking contraband cappuccino.

Also have you heard about this new thing called Arm Parties? It’s not some weird sexual thing you probably won’t be into (like I originally thought) its where you wear lots of bracelets and then, I don’t know, I guess wave your arm around and squeal “Arm party! Arm party!” and take Instagram pictures of your wrist to post to your Internet blog.

Well, that’s what I did anyway. Here’s my arm party.

The first 6 or seven bracelets are actually one long necklace wound around and around, a necklace made of paper beads using fair trade labour by women in Uganda. It’s easily my favorite piece of jewelry (aside from my engagement ring HI ADAM!).

If you are a girl with long hair the next item will be muchos familiar to you as it is the lowly yet ever present hair elastic. I am so attached to these I actually had one on for the first half of our wedding and I didn’t even realize it until I saw our wedding photos and in every one that little brown hair elastic sits smugly on my wrist, a reminder of my ordinary self amongst the solemnity of the occasion.

The hair elastic is followed by my least favorite piece of jewelry, if you can even CALL it that. My stupid hideous medic alert bracelet that I have to wear as if I’m some feeble octogenarian who might fall and lie prone, unable to get up without assistance (help! help!).

But my mother breaks out in hives and clutches at me, screaming obscenities when she sees me not wearing it so really, putting it on is just less work for everyone involved.

Actually, the medic alert bracelet should be thanked for inspiring this whole arm party, because my shame about wearing it made me seek out other, more colourful bracelets to camouflage its damned presence, much as Adele’s terrible ex-boyfriend inspired her to write beautiful but tragic songs about heartbreak, rocketing her to fame and international acclaim in the process.

Guys, my medic bracelet is Adele’s ex boyfriend. If you learn one thing from this here Internet blog, let it be that.

The final guest to rock the party is a bracelet I made last night. I think visual reminders of goals/ambitions are extremely powerful, and in my case, necessary.

My memory could be better – it seems that no sooner do I make a vow than I break it, simply forgetting my intentions entirely.

So this bracelet was made using the cheeriest colours I could find and with each knot I tried to think of positivity.

Smiling, laughter, that happy feeling that swells your ribs so much you think they might break.

It was quite the cathartic process, especially since I abandoned it three rows in, frustrated with its intricacy and my clumsy fingers. And then I laughed at myself and the irony of a happiness bracelet being abandoned nearly before it had begun, being deemed “too hard”.

Oh Madeleine. Really.

Obviously I continued on and mostly it went well but I also had to undo rows and retrace my steps, painstakingly plucking apart dozens of tiny knots before I finally finished four hours later. It took a long time and it was hard and it’s not perfect but when I look at it I’m reminded of my intention, my deep desire to feel lighthearted, content.

It also reminds me that it will take a long time, and one step forward will sometimes mean two steps back. I will make mistakes and perhaps swear like an angry, scurvy-ridden sailor and feel like throwing in the towel altogether, but I’ll get there.

ARM PARTY! ARM PARTY!

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