Jesus would NOT do April Fool's

So... I HATE April Fool's Day. I remember the first time I was ever pranked on the first of April. I was in the third grade. I was getting ready for school, which usually consisted of me running around red-faced, yanking a comb through the rat's nest in my hair and choking back some breakfast as I scrambled to collect my oil-stained homework from the night before. On this particular morning, I was flinging a sack lunch into my backpack when my mom called to me calmly from across the room.


"(singlewhitefemale), there's a spider in your hair."


WHAAAAT?!!! "WHERE?!!!" I was clawing ferociously at my tangles as my mother walked over, smiling softly, and stopped in front of me to put a loving hand on my shoulder. 


"April Fool's!"


I remember standing there, confused, still trying to flick the insect-octopus out of my bushy mane. My mom had to explain the whole foundation of the April Fool's trickery to make me stop slapping at my neck in fear. Sooo... on this one day... every year... people who you trust to always tell you the truth are allowed to suddenly betray you and play with your heart and emotions??? I didn't like that. Not one bit.


I've been really fortunate since then as far as being "punked" on this holiday. Any jokes played on me have been harmless, and as such forgettable. That is... until this year. This year I was the accidental victim of a joke that had me almost suicidal with fear. And I'm not even joking. 


Last night I was sitting in the office at my restaurant after a really busy evening in our cafe. I was counting up money and recording the day's sales when my phone lit up with a text from one of my best friends in Santa Barbara. She wanted to know the name of a guy I'd hung out with briefly earlier this year in one of my drunker times. That's weird. I gave her his full name, and then received this text:


"That's what I thought. Did you know he's HIV positive?"


The sky fell down.


I sat there. And sat there. The color drained from my face... my hands... my outlook on life.


You see, I've always known that I've been extremely lucky. It's not like I've ever run around sharing needles or whoring myself out on street corners... but I've definitely made some really bad choices in my life when it comes to taking care of myself. The biggest reason for my moving away from Santa Barbara was to give myself a new start in respecting my worth and taking care of my health. My motto for life has REALLY been "whatever happens happens,"so my relationship with this guy my friend was asking about kinda just came out of that. Not to say he isn't a cool guy or whatever, but he fit perfectly into a time frame when I felt more lost inside my head and skin than ever. 


So.


Like I said.


I've always thanked God (profusely) for watching over me and protecting me from my own mistakes, and when I got that text... it all just clicked into place in my head. That actually, God had other plans for me. That actually, I wasn't going to slide by this time. That actually... my biggest fears had come true. 


In a twenty minute time frame, I went from spinning disbelievingly in a dream-state to accepting my fate. I had already figured that I would never be able to outsmart the disease like Magic Johnson with his billions of dollars; no, my path would be much more humble, much less glamorous. I called upon all the references I could from documentaries, movies, TV... trying to picture the abrupt change to my future that I was sure was about to take place. While I sat in my office chair, visibly trembling, my skin whiter than the hands of priveleged women in the 1800's, I had employees bustling in and out asking me about their tasks and could they please go home. 

"Go... live your lives... LIVE!" I heard my voice climb from the depths of its sadness to the rim of a twenty-five-year-old well, full of substance from the short life I'd lived that now seemed so conclusive. 


They looked at me and said, "Kay cool," and clocked out from work.


It was then that my phone lit up again, and my shaky hands battled passionately with the touch-screen feature as I fumbled to read the new text from my friend:


"Oh shit. It's April Fool's Day. Do you think that maybe it's a joke?? I just saw it on facebook, I dunno."


A flush of color returned to my face. A lot of it. I told her to find out, please, because I had already started writing my will and I was a little busy. Within a few minutes, she responded with a flood of texted apologies and embarrassment. It had all been... a prank? That was never intended for me in the first place? 


I couldn't... quite... understand. I called my friend and after getting the full story, my mind began to slowly hug the truth closer and closer, and the tunnel vision that had formed in my sight began to broaden once again. Only this time, everything was rainbow and sparkly and radiating a warmth of love and forgiveness and hope and possibility and prosperity. IT WAS A JOKE!!! **maniacal laughter** 


Anger and relief battled their way through my blood stream. I had aged a hundred years in those twenty minutes. The new wizened me flexed her compassion's muscles and shoved the anger out of my heart. So what if it WAS the meanest, most stupid joke to play on your facebook friends who, by the way, are real people with real reactions and real terror? It was a JOKE and all the world is LOVE!!


I left work last night with a stomach-ache and a heart full of dreams. My body refused to keep up with my fast-paced transition from mortal dread to ultimate gratitude, so my abs were still cramping with fear, and tremors continued to shimmy through my nerves as if my adrenaline alone were responsible for reviving my previously numb body. My head, however, was doing zero-gravity Zumba-hip thrusts in the weightlessly ecstatic environment it had just entered. IT WAS A JOKE!!!!


I didn't sleep last night. My body STILL refused to buy into the punch-line and insisted instead on revving up my vital organs into survival mode. I prayed and tossed and turned and prayed some more, half frustrated with exhaustion and half giddy that I could be allowed to be frustrated at so trivial a thing. 


So what have I learned?


Well, I thank God (again!) for sparing me, and the gift has NOT been lost on me. Since moving to Encinitas, I've essentially become a nun. Well, a nun who drinks Bud Light with Lime and says the F word every fifteen minutes. At this point in my life, I'm finally understanding the consequences of my decisions and my jack-assery (as my best friend Bex's mom would put it). I am thankful each day for the happiness I feel and for the opportunity to focus all my energy on radiating and absorbing more and more positive energy. 


I've also learned that on April 1, 2012, I will go sit in a vacant field of grass for twenty-four hours and leave my cell phone behind so that no way, NO HOW, will I be the victim of another April Fool's crime. Not okay. 


I sure hope there aren't ghosts in that field of grass... cuz that would be scary.