Gert Wishes She Was At My House Today

After coming to two parties at my house over the course of two months Bebe called and, hoping I wasn't offended, offered that she had some suggestions about how to make traffic flow and livability better here. I wasn't offended. On some level I was kind of relieved. At her request I drew her the world's most out of scale floor plan, with perfectly accurate measurements, and we set a date.

Today was the day my own private redecorating tornado came to play.

Bebe arrived at 10am. I put her in a car service about 7:45pm. We did take a short walk to the hardware store and to eat a bite at Maggie Brown, oh and we sat down to watch a few questions worth of Jeopardy before she left but aside from that we've been working all day long. I have reduced two SOS pads to nubbins, used up full rolls of two kinds of tape, hammered my first nail into the walls of this apartment (up to now someone has done it for me), run 3 loads through the dishwasher, said "sure!" approximately 72459234302947302420 times, used remarkable few paper towels and scared the crap out of my cats. (Gert, it was while I was SOSing my entire kitchen that I thought of you. I thought, "I bet Gert would find this so satisfying. I bet she'd be getting some sort of kick out of it instead of feeling like she was SOSing off a significant part of her soul.")

I am exhausted. I'm happy, love the new look, but am truly beaten by the process. And I have homework! It's not company-ready yet. I've got instructions and I've made promises and I have lists. I can't even take the photos yet because my homework is all over (and under) the dining room table. However, I'm happily ensconced in my new (seats 8!) living room with my drink on a side table (how grown up!) and I'm feeling pretty lucky that someone would think about me like this and give me the gift of her expertise in this way.

This morning via Facebook Steph, ChemE and I all exchanged a few little words about Mrs. X. She died 2 years ago today. I didn't make the connection until after I sent Bebe off home but this was probably the best way to mark this day. It was tough but good to spend a whole day with one of my Other Mothers. I gave her 2 photos for Christmas presents and they made her cry so I think she really liked them. She talked to me about a visit she made to her family in Calgary in the fall, she giggled at the thrill of spoiling my dog and we solved a cat-related scare together.

Bebe's way is not Mrs. X's way. I can't stress that strongly enough. Their importance to me, though, is comparable. I think of Mrs. X often but, of course, those thoughts are stronger and more frequent around the holidays. It was a tough Christmas and I really, I don't know the word, resented maybe, not being able to hear her laugh and have her hold my hand. While I was thinking of Auntie Blanche I remembered Mrs. X, already ill, coming to the nursing home and participating in an impromptu singalong. In a room of women from the ages of 7 to 96 the one person who knew all the words to to every single song was Mrs. X. I wanted her to teach me all those words.

What I'm saying I guess is thank goodness I have other mothers to ease the loss. I was lucky to have Mrs. X and I'm lucky to have Bebe and that, I suppose, is more than some people even know to ask for.

On yoga and death

So I went to that yoga class today. Wore my sweats and a tank with a tee over it. I was a little rattier than most of the women and about on par with the men which is about where I usually am.

I can't say that I'll never go to another yoga class ever again but it won't be any time soon and I'm pretty sure I'll never go to another class at that particular establishment. No, I don't blame them for my pain but their style probably isn't a good fit for me.

Since I got finished I've felt sick to my stomach, sad, humiliated, I've got some soreness and weakness in the legs, same with the right arm, and I know exactly when I injured the left arm. It's very weak now with pain in the bicep and wrapping around from the shoulder blade to the same point in front. Oh, and I've got a headache. It's low level generalized, completely separate from the pain that's radiating from the shoulder.

Here's the thing, I'm just not very strong physically. Really I'm not. I know this and I try to improve and it's why I took the basics class instead of the open class. Fortunately the web site specified that you should get some basics under your belt before you go to the open class. Imagine what I'd feel like if I'd taken the open class first. Maybe this class wasn't very basic, the teacher didn't specify a lot of modifications if you were having trouble and he did it all with pose names so if you didn't know any of them you were stuck looking around at other people. Which, frankly, wasn't a lot of help. Also there was no breaking down of different poses, showing you how they go or walking you through getting into them, it all happened - in theory - on your breath, which if you're struggling is pretty freaking quick. This combination made it really hard for me to follow mentally, and physically I was simply not up to the challenge. Things were held far longer than I was able to stand, almost every pose was one I wasn't strong enough to hold and I had no idea how to fix it. It's making me tear up just to talk about it because I felt like such an ass and so helpless.

I'll tell you the funniest thing about it just to stop that part. By the time we got to the first downward dog of the day (first) my hands were sweating. They were sweating so badly that they kept slipping. This meant that instead of relaxing into the pose and enjoying the stretch and the relative rest of it I was scrambling to find a purchase or kneeling and wiping my hands down or trying to figure out how to make myself stop sliding. It also took my focus away from my breath since I needed to calculate whether it would be considered rude to interrupt class by slipping and breaking my nose.

I'm aware that this makes me sound a bit like I fulfilled my own prophecy. The thing is, I'm aware that I learned stuff today. I'm aware that it wasn't a total loss, that it's a good thing that I went despite the fact that I hated it. Let's review, hated. The guy did a little Q&A about meditation and then we had a 10 minute meditation at the beginning. He made me feel better about my level of ability there. It's the first time someone has explained that learning process in a way that I understand. He compared it to teaching a puppy to walk on a leash, there's constant correction but not in anger and eventually the puppy sticks with it longer and it's all about...OK, you know what I'm saying, it's a good analogy for me since it's something I understand...and continue to struggle with daily despite my dog's advanced age.

That's the key here, I think. I'm finding this year that my lesson from the world is that I don't know as much as I think I know. I'd seen some yoga on TV, I'd done a tape once, I had a whole bunch of people telling me I was going to love it. (And to you people I say, "Yeah, thanks.") I didn't think I knew everything about it but I thought I knew enough to go into a class and feel marginally comfortable.

Some people like goals that are way ahead of them. Huge goals like when you're 5 and you decide you want to be a firefighter. Or when you're 50 and you decide you want to run a marathon. Not impossible goals but goals that are going to require a big helping of failure on a regular basis as the person learns. I am not that person. I like a smaller stretch. I like a goal that I have the skills for but maybe am not using them yet or need to practice them or whatever. I wouldn't say I wanted to run a marathon. I'd start with a goal to run a mile and see how it went. The failure sets me back a lot, gets me really down on myself and saps my motivation. I know, you're shocked to hear that, I'm usually such a cock eyed optimist, sorry to burst the bubble.

It turns out that when you blog you start to see certain things as being sure content for the blog. There are other things that are definitely not content and then a few things that you can't decide about or that you need to approach from a specific angle before you can write about them in public like that. The problem comes when you have one of the latter category but it's so consuming to the writing part of your brain that you can't quite write about anything else until you've handled this one thing.

That other thing is Mrs. X's funeral mass. I knew I had to write about it but I didn't know how much I could write about it or how and yet if I didn't I couldn't go on to something else. Then I took this stupid yoga class (yes, I'm three, yes, it's not very enlightened but tough I need it, stupid yoga class) and it was the same thing. Which should be a ridiculous joke about how close to death I feel right now but it's not. They're both things about which I thought I knew, not everything, but enough to be called a foundation and therefore I would have at least the tools to handle the new parts. Just running a mile, not a marathon, not even a 10K, just my little mile, longer than I want to run but not so far that I'm discouraged.

I was wrong.

I've been to a lot of funerals and memorials and burials in my time. I've been to a decent number of Catholic masses in my time, even. Turns out that, much to my surprise, I've never been to a funeral mass before. Man, are those ever impersonal. That's what I thought anyway. The music was almost entirely new, composed in the early 80s and I found it wildly boring. I like classic old school hymns with the 4 part harmony written out in the hymnal. Steph and Bud each read a short piece from the bible but aside from that the priest was the only other person who spoke. No, wait, I think the cantor did a couple of pompous introductions to hymns. It made me angry. I wanted something personal to hang onto. I kept blaming the priest and the church for making such an impersonal service and not letting us, as a congregation, have any of her. I thought maybe if I'd been going to mass regularly all my life that the ritual of it might have been comforting and I hoped that was why Mrs. X chose this type of service but mostly I was mad at the stupid church (stupid yoga!) for doing such a crap funeral.

Then Steph got up again. She read a beautiful piece that I'm not re-printing here until I ask her what she thinks about that (Steph, what do you think about that?). It was far and away my favorite part of the service. It was something that Mrs. X left behind and it was delivered in a way that let us know it was part of her and it said as much within the reading. In speaking about the reading, though, Steph explained that her mother had designed the service. She hadn't chosen readings but she'd chosen all the (wait for it) music.

I felt horrible. Hideous and unworthy. So I cried. Finally. But it wasn't really for Mrs. X it was for me. Which made me feel more horrible. In the one all to brief moment of silent prayer I simply thanked her and apologized over and over.

I don't remember when I realized that the mass had been personal. It wasn't right then. It might have been outside the church on the way to the reception. It might have been on the plane home that night. It might have been days later walking the dog in the neighborhood. I realized that she'd crafted a service of people. I suspect that Mrs. X's mass was this particular young priest's first funeral mass for a person he had known in life and through last rites. He told a story of Mrs. X asking him to play his viola for her. She was the only other person who had ever heard him play besides the other priest in the rectory. There was a harpist (yet another thing I was all pissed about). My mom spoke to her later, though, and found out that she's only been playing about a year and I don't know how Mrs. X met her but she'd had the harpist in to play for her before she died. Steph found that brilliant piece she read in her mother's night table. And the last hymn? It was Amazing Grace. My mom and I sang it in harmony.

I am so not done with this. I keep thinking that I am or that I at least know where I am in the process but I don't. I don't feel done with her. Me, the girl who really does believe that every time I see you is the last time, wasn't done yet. Mrs. X was the first woman friend I had who didn't know me as a kid or because of my parents. She just knew me as and for me and she liked me. Later she bridged that gap between being my friend and being my mother's friend in a way I can only hope to emulate as I grow up and have younger friends.

I want to tell you about the year ChemE and the kids and I made her a birthday cake. I want to tell you about ChemE's wedding shower at Mrs. X's house. I want to tell you about the last time I saw her and the way she, quite uncharactaristically, held my hand. I guess I will someday but I can't right now. It all seems sort of stupid (stupid yoga!) and useless and over-dramatized compared to how everyone else is feeling about it. While also feeling like it's not exactly right to publish all that. You know that feeling where if you say something out loud then you lose it? It feels like that.

The Continuity Fairy

Spectrum Girl has this thing called The Continuity Fairy. She's the light, the presence, the freakshow that puts up signposts in your life to show you how the moment you're in now, the one where you're slipping on the ice or listening to the fish monger guys talk about the Speaker of the House is related to the moment 10 years ago where you ordered pork ribs in a chain restaurant in Saginaw or the one car ride to the airport on your way to the UK when the guy tried to screw you on the fare. For Spectrum Girl the relevations tend toward the Neil Gaiman. Mine lean a little more to the Oh By The Way. Yesterday she kicked me square in the 'nads.



In the morning, a few hours before I got the announcement about MusicBaby's landing, I got an e-mail from Mrs. X. Just a joke she forwarded. I haven't heard from her in a while so I wrote back and asked if she was still in Florida. Sometime after the baby news I got her reply. She had to cut the trip short, the chemo stopped working and she's getting new meds this week.

Part of why I look so forward to knowing MusicBaby and Alita and PaperBaby in the future is because I've had great experiences with kids who are far older than they. I have memories like the one where Alita announced unprompted that I'm her aunt. I've got the one where Moonpie started spontaneously replying to my e-mails from her mother's account. I've got this conversation from the Athlete. He's 16 and he's all the cliches of how tough and unapproachable teens can be. I try to stick to our traditions, to the deals we've made with each other over the years, even when he's appalling me I try to respect him and keep talking to him in the possibly vain hope that he'll talk too. One night around Christmas, in accordance with one of our deals, I led with this:

"OK, I'll see you later. I might be asleep when you get back and I'll probably be gone when you get up."
"Gone, like back to New York?"
"Yeah, I'm going to try to leave before 10."
"Well, wake me up before you go."
Dude, that's like a fucking emotional academy award from a teenager. I know that, I appreciate it, and I'm so grateful for it. So I look forward to all the other moments like that with all the other kids maybe even a little more than I always have with him and QuewlKat and Steph because they led the way and thanks to them I have some concept of the cool shit that may be in store.

There's other stuff that I don't look forward to. It's part of the package and I'm grateful to be a part of it insofar as it is, but I'm not looking forward to it.



I don't look forward to The Athlete joining the service. Not these days. He's big and strong and tough and he won't be behind what bunkers are available, he'll be in a convoy, he'll have only a 50-50 shot of having kevlar. Despite the fact that his age makes this impossible to express, he's good with kids, he loves them and he gets them and he'll be the guy who throws his body over a kid to save his life, if he even has that much say in the way he dies.

But that's just conjecture. That is easier to think about and plan for because it's only a possibility in a whole world of possibilities and there's no reason yet to think he'll do that. I don't look forward to it any more than I look forward to signing his cast after a car accident but I think about it and try to figure out where I fit, what I can do to help him walk that path.

For Steph and Bud it's too real because Mrs. X is going to die.

I could write a whole entry of just that, "Mrs. X is going to die." because I need a place to put that information, to remind myself that it's true, it's real, it is inescapable. It's too easy to be carried away by the excitement of how well that last chemo was working and of her hair growing back and how much fun we had together this Christmas. It's too easy to pretend that even though the reality is that there's an end and the rest of it is what we're supposed to do on the way to that end. But, in order to do the middle bits right, acknowledging the end is vital.

I am not looking forward to helping Steph and Bud say goodbye to their mother. I'm not looking forward to saying goodbye to her myself. Before any politician went to another continent and learned that "it takes a village" Mrs. X was in New England practicing that. She is one of the women who taught me what an enormous role one can play in the lives of kids who don't share your blood.

I have no idea how to navigate this particular journey. I've got a bunch of ideas and some really super good intentions and that's helped me out for over 20 years with Steph & Bud but wow, this is a whole lot more complicated than Bud's toddler separation anxiety and Steph's tongue piercing and everything else that we've shared up to now. And, while I'm going to do my very best, I don't know what to expect and I can't say any more than that I'm just not looking forward to it.



So from the Continuity Fairy I get "Yay! Baby!" and "Fuck! Cancer." in one day. Don't give me that circle of life bull, Elton John can get bent.

10 Good Things

A year ago today Joe the Barber died. Two years ago yesterday (or was it three?) mom's old man friend, Jake, died. Just over half a year ago Auntie Blanche took off for parts unknown. In January I let Mrs. X's passiversary well, pass, without note. OK, without note here on the internet, trust me, it was noted. Grandmother Biddy's 8th year away will come on May 8th, a red letter day of sorts.

Joe sent us a beautiful day today. So I thought it'd be a good Tuesday to do 10 Good Things about some of those people.

1. Joe and my mom and another neighbor used to have "tomato races" to see who could get the first ripe tomato of the season. The subterfuge involved is the stuff of legend.

2. Jake made pot roast that I sometimes still dream about. The guy would once in a great while have one solitary 7 & 7 but he'd deglaze the pot roast pan with PLENTY of sherry. Even Martha Stewart would vouch for this good thing.

3. Auntie Blanche used to bring roses to all the senior citizens in her home town on Christmas Eve.

4. Mrs. X had a really specific laugh for when she was being snarky. She could be Mistress of the Snark, which was very cool.

5. My grandfather, Robbie, (8 years as of Nov. 9th) was revamping a school project at the time of his death. He'd been invited to a local high school to be a sort of "Back in My Day" show and tell item and he felt he hadn't handled it perfectly so he was going to do it right the next year.

6. Mrs. X instituted "Homemade & Heifer" for our Christmas exchanges. Heifer stood for Heifer International but we expanded the definition to include any charity. We give a lot to the Lung Cancer folks now.

7. The gift we gave Auntie Blanche that she liked the most was a donation in her name to Habitat for Humanity. All my life she lived in a rented apartment.

8. After 9/11 Joe worried about me being prepared for another disaster and about how long my walk home was. After the blackout in 2003 he said, "It's not fair. She had to walk home twice!"

9. Robbie & Biddy's house smelled a particular way. It was sort of cool and earthy and delicious. It still exists very faintly on a coat of his that I have. I haven't worn it much because I didn't want to destroy the smell.

10. Joe used to go to the Bee's house to take the dog for a ride just because she liked it.

Do me a favor and enjoy the hell out of this day, willya? Thanks. I knew I could count on you.

Think Pink Panther

Starting today you're likely to be inundated with urgings to think pink, buy pink, drink pink, wear pink, wash pink, eat pink, sit on pink, drive pink, just pink pink pink pink pink. It's for a good cause, so why shouldn't you, right?

Don't get me wrong some of my best friends are breast cancer survivors. To say nothing of my mother. (Cancer free almost 20 years, go mom!) However, as one of those friends, Audio Girl, reminded me today, we need to think before we "pink." A lot of the obvious choices for support aren't actually helping women with breast cancer very much, if at all. I trust Audio Girl to have done the research to find legitimately helpful organizations to support. Here are some that were mentioned in the thread she started on Facebook:

• Barbara Ehrenreich
• 
  
• Think Before You Pink
• 
  
• Young Survival Coalition
• 
  
• Breast Cancer Action
• 
  
• BCRF
• 
  
• I'm Too Young For This
• 
  
• Let's F Cancer

There's another thing you might not know about cancer: women don't just get breast cancer. Women get all kinds of cancer. I could justify using this occasion to plug the support of any form of cancer. Maybe I ought to use it to rant out my real fears about the path that medical research is going down which may be hindering the search for every cure. I'm going to talk about lung cancer, though.

Yesterday, during a routine conversation with ChemE, we touched on Christmas plans. Unsurprisingly it's going to be different this year. I wasn't upset, no more than I usually am about Christmas, it's more anxiety than anything else. After we got off the phone, though, I went under a brief, strong wave of missing Mrs. X.

Mrs. X died of lung cancer almost 4 years ago. Never smoked, lived in a suburban to rural area, didn't cure meat for a living. Her cancer story is not perfectly unique. A lot more people, especially women, who do not have lifestyle markers for lung cancer find themselves blindsided by an aggressive form of it. Research for this type of cancer is funded far less lavishly than breast cancer. The American Lung Association is doing its best to bring positive attention to lung cancer and other respiratory illnesses but there's a challenge to spin doctors with a disease that has automatic blame factors. You'll notice that the first thing I did when I mentioned Mrs. X's disease was to disclaim hard and long for fear you'd think she deserved her cancer. As much as I abhor smoking (people who smoke underneath my window, I'm looking at you) no one deserves this shit.

So this October I do hope that you think about cancer, cancer research, cancer funding, cancer survivors and most especially cancer prevention. But I hope you think beyond the color of a label. I've known you guys a while now, though. I'm sure you will.

10 Things Mrs. X

Steph posted a photo of her mom on Facebook this morning to mark the 5th anniversary of her death. I would absolutely have stolen it and posted it here but I'm at work and we don't get Facebook here because people are stupid. I combed through my archives and found a few goodies to fill out a list of 10.

1.

2. The last time I saw her Mrs. X took my hand to lead me into the living room so the others would follow us so she could sit down. I think of the way that felt all the time.

3. Every time we eat clementines ChemE and I remember that Mrs. X would painstakingly peel all of the white pith off of them so ChemE would eat them

4.

5. She instituted our Christmas tradition of "Heifer and Homemade" because she didn't want us to spend time and money shopping and worrying and she thought that those two things - donating and giving from the heart - were worthy of us.

6. After she lost much of her hair she wore this bright red beret and when it was broiling hot out she'd soak it in cold water to keep her cool.

7.

8. She made some of the worst chicken I have ever eaten in my whole life.

9. I would give almost anything for the chance to eat that chicken again.

10.

Everybody's Doin' It

You find this list of questions everywhere but I don't know if I've ever answered them before. Linda is always kind enough to print just the questions for easy copying before she posts her answers so I was inspired by her to jump in. It took a long while to do, it's far from easy but it is interesting. I'd love to know what your answers are. If you don't have a blog but would like/allow them to be posted in public I'd be happy to post them here.

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?

Went to my 20th HS reunion...sprained some joints...had facial surgery...went to the wedding of one of my parents...owned a cat with a heart murmur.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I kept some I didn't keep others. I try to think of them as guidelines. I will definitely make some more so stay tuned to this station.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yup.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Yeah, Mrs. X, D. Jay, Jake, Jack.

5. What countries did you visit?

I stayed here. Like right here. Didn't even move off the East Coast. This is not so good.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

Better health. More kissing. Fame and fortune. A different president/hope for the future.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

January 3rd when Mrs. X died. November 27 when I had the wacky Mohs surgery. April 27 & 28. On the 27th I was driving north for my father's wedding on the 28th and I got the call that my mother's partner of many years, Jake, had died.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Continuing my near 39 year streak of not committing homicide? It was harder to keep this year than you might think. Realistically my answer is plunging into producing an evening of new work, probably. (February 15th & 16th at 8pm in Brooklyn, hope to see you there!)

9. What was your biggest failure?

Staying another year in the j.o.b. without significant progress toward supporting myself doing something I love.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Oh christ yes. I fell and fractured my radius, sprained my elbow and wrist and messed up my knee. I got my head professionally busted open to remove basal cell carcinoma. I got food poisoning. Even my pets suffered illness, it was ridiculous.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I honestly can't remember a damn thing that I bought this year, though I know I bought stuff. For lack of a better answer I'll say the ticket to my 20th High School Reunion. Though my Weight Watchers subscription might be a tie.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Anyone who put up with me? Gar's did certainly since he helped me immeasurably in his short stay on the East Coast. Pony Express also fits this category what with the coming to watch me get my head cleaved and all.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

I'm not super impressed with some family members. I'm still weighing whether to include myself in this category. The Athlete has been making some choices I'm having a lot of trouble with.

14. Where did most of your money go?

You'd think I'd know this since I spent a significant chunk of the year watching my finances. It seems to be going largely to bills but a lot of it went to the different vets who have kept my pets alive and the pet food store as I tried to find the right balance to keep them that way. Also to getting my new glasses and to the downpayment for the show I'm doing in February. (Feb 15 & 16 in Brooklyn, remember?)

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

I got overly excited about my HS reunion and other people's reactions to it. That's about it, it's been a bit of a downer year.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?

I'm so bad at this. Probably White Trash Wedding by the Dixie Chicks. For no particular reason I love the fast picking twanginess of it. It happened to be one of the first songs that shuffled off my iPod after dad announced his wedding date and now I don't enjoy it at all, it sets my teeth on edge. Again, downer year for me, sorry.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
 a) happier or sadder? 
b) thinner or fatter? 
c) richer or poorer?

Sadder. I'm never particularly happy at this time of year and this year has kicked my ass a little. I'm thinner, a lot thinner. I'm poorer and still trying to figure that out.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Traveling. Kissing. Performing.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Working at the j.o.b.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

With friends and family in New England.

21. Did you fall in love in 2007?

Nope.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

So hard to choose (also so hard to link, I'm going to leave you to google for yourselves). Veronica Mars, Class, How I Met Your Mother, Friday Night Lights, The Riches, Weeds, Battlestar Gallactica, Burn Notice, Saving Grace and probably some more that I'm forgetting. I love TV.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

This is dangerous and I really don't think I should answer it. I'd say yes and leave it at that but hate is such a strong word I'm afraid to stick to close to it.

24. What was the best book you read?

I was going to say Time Traveler's Wife but it turns out I read that last year. I'm having trouble remembering anything I read this last year. Oh! Harry Potter, that was awesome and that was definitely this year.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I can still play the piano with both hands...at the same time!

26. What did you want and get?

The rest of the Twilight Trilogy, a sweater handmade specially for me, a Mike Lowell t-shirt, a reprieve from my review, champagne on my birthday, Christmas sheet music, my old camera back, a piano, a superhero necklace

27. What did you want and not get?

Big camera, feather duster, Sandman comics, an upgrade of my Flickr account, a new president, world peace and so many other things I am too embarrassed to list here.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Notes on a Scandal. Can't recommend that enough. I also really enjoyed Stardust and a bunch of things I saw on DVD.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 38 and I didn't do much on the actual day. We usually go bowling with the brunch club on a Sunday near my birthday...no, but we didn't this year. I came home early from Mrs. X's funeral and we had an evening champagne toast at a local wine bar. Alex and I ended up perching Alita between us and making her laugh like a manic sci fi character for hours. Maybe we can do that again, that was fun.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

More kissing? Less surgery? Book deal? A job I really love? Fewer days involving the intimate knowledge of cat urine?

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Crap, I need a belt.

32. What kept you sane?

Friends of both the 2 and 4 legged variety and having my own apartment.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

My love for Lee Tergesen has become unavoidable.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

The upcoming election so, in some ways, all of them.

35. Who did you miss?

Mrs. X, D. Jay

36. Who was the best new person you met?

This also seems dangerous, also I can't remember who I've met. I enjoyed the 2nd year of NaBloPoMo and meeting some new people and their blogs through that.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.

Wear sunscreen (no matter what Gerry says).

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I'm going to make a lot of money
Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on


There's this other meme that a bunch of people are answering as well. I decided not to since a lot of the questions are love/partner/marriage related and since I don't have anything in that category it's too many Not Applicables for my taste. There's this one question on it, though, that's cracking me up the way people are answering.

The questions are about what you'll be doing in the coming year and one is, "Will you go to bars?" So far everyone I've read has answered in the negative in such a vehement way as to imply that they were reaching for the smelling salts with one hand while typing, "Oh heavens to Betsy no!" with the other.

People, they're bars not opium dens. Those big dudes at the door are to bounce rowdies out not to block you in and force feed you Jagermeister. You can go in, enjoy the company of good friends in an adult environment that reminds you there's a world outside your 4 walls and if you want you can even enjoy a (gasp!) NON alcoholic beverage. It's like everyone thinks that married people aren't allowed in bars. Really not the case. I don't mean that in a "cheating bastards" context, either. Happily married people often enjoy the atmosphere of a nice bar with or without their spouse. I saw it with my own two eyes last night.

So, for you of the "Heavens to Betsy no!" crowd may I suggest you put just one ever so brief visit on your to do list. There might be a pleasant surprise in it for you. If you need suggestions of places for beginners to try let me know, I'm happy to do the research.

Payday (not the candy bar)

One day many years ago I was gently browsing a B&N with a male friend. It was several years prior to the birth of his lovely daughters but also several years after he had decided that he wanted children and he wanted to stay at home and take care of them himself. It was midafternoon and we were on the second floor. There was a glass partition surrounding the escalator so that you could stand and watch people slowly creeping up to meet you. A young man, about 18 months of age, peeled off from his nanny in the middle of a less-than-riveting Thomas the Tank Engine and pressed his nose against the glass, fascinated by the shiny, moving steps. The nanny levered herself off the floor and not too aggressively but absolutely unwaveringly insisted that the boy sit down and finish the story with her. My friend became incensed. I could feel him quivering under his skin and he said, "I will stand with my kids and watch the escalator if they want to watch the escalator. That is what being a kid is about."

And now, I'm sure that is what he does.

A couple of days ago I started reading a collection of essays called Mommy Wars: Stay-At-Home and Career Moms Face Off on Their Choices, Their Lives, Their Families. ProfDoc sent it to me in a package of books she thought I might be interested in. Don't worry, it's not that I've changed my stance on being a mom, it's just my continuous character research and interest in writing. One of the essays I read today, incidentally the one so far voted most likely to make my head explode, quotes a psychiatrist as saying, "The currency of love is time."

I immediately thought of my friend and I think it fits. It really is.

Think about all the ways that people have spent time on you and you on them lately. Has someone called you? Have they e-mailed you? Have you had dinner with someone? Did you attend someone's concert or play? Did you comment on a blog? Did you walk a dog? Did someone send you a postcard or forward you an article with relevance to you specifically? Did someone pick up dinner for you? Did you bake cookies for someone? Did you stick a post-it in someone's lunch or book a dentist appointment? Did someone stop when they saw you on the street to chat for a bit? Did someone check on you if you were sick? Did you send off a check-in text to someone with a particularly difficult task to complete?

The currency of love is time.

Time is something we don't have a lot of these days. Every instance someone spending even a little of it on you I think should noted as a privilege. Love isn't something that always gets paid back kopek for kopek, franc for franc, or minute for minute. Sometimes it really shouldn't be. It should, however, be appreciated when it is lavished on you in whatever increments.

The second person I thought of when I read that phrase was Mrs. X. ChemE and I first got to know her because of the value she put on time. She hired ChemE, and later me, to babysit her daughters so that she and Mr. X could have a weekly date. They rarely did anything far out of the norm, sometimes they'd just walk long the river in the park but every week they spent time together, just the two of them. For years and years after that ChemE and I made a point to visit her and whatever bits of her family we could corral every time we went home. This was a tradition long before she was diagnosed with lung cancer. Our particular joy was the time we spent at Christmas, despite it also being the busiest and most visit of the year for each of us. Sappy as it sounds the scant hours we carved out each holiday season to sit on her living room floor and laugh were both the cheapest and most expensive gifts we both gave and received. Every time we started the scheduling process Mrs. X would say, "Oh I know you girls are busy, you don't have to visit us if you can't fit it in. We'll see you next time." She knew the value of that time and she didn't require us to spend it on her but when we were there she enjoyed us fully and we her. By giving us the option she also helped us learn to value the time we gave and to prioritize accordingly.

This week a friend has spent time on both cooking and eating with me, friends have e-mailed me and commented on my blog, someone has forwarded me a very funny joke, a friend returned my call and listened to me rant and vent for an hour, a friend is sending me a package, my mother called and put me on the phone with Auntie Blanche. Right now a friend is thinking that she ought to be packing because very soon she'll be traveling a long way in part to spend time on me. This week alone it seems I have been very expensive, time-wise and for that I am supremely grateful. If I can't pay it back I promise I will pay it forward.

Feel free to share in the comments some way in which someone has spent time on you this week.

No Matter What The Day

Today is Giving Tuesday, apparently. It's part of the whole Black Friday/Small Business Saturday/Cyber Monday scheme to get people to focus their consuming in different directions as the heavy retail and gifting season begins. Since Tuesdays are also for 10 things I'll toss out 10 places one might give this, or any, time of the year.

1. The Tunnel to Towers Foundation was set up by the family of a firefighter who died in the collapse of the World Trade Center on 9/11. Their organization is instrumental in getting aid to folks who have been harmed by the recent super storm. 

2. I give to The Lung Association every year in memory of Mrs. X. Lung cancer doesn't get as much press as a lot of other varietals but it'll kill you dead just the same. Yes, even if you never smoked.

3. Our JRH has done runs for the Dana Farber Institute. Again, wiping out cancer, not a bad thing.

4. Mrs. X was a big believer in Heifer International. She gave me a flock of chicks once. I gave Mr. X a hive of bees last year, I think. It's a group that works to improve communities and our natural world in one fell swoop. Pretty cool.

5. You can donate money or time to Habitat for Humanity. Auntie Blanche loved them. I don't know how much of that was about the importance of home and how much was about an admiration of Jimmy Carter and I don't care!

6. I talk about Donors Choose a lot. I come from a long line of educators. I'm going to keep talking about it until it's no longer something we need so, you know, don't hold your breath.

7. I've done a few performances over the years at Brooklyn Arts Exchange. I've also mopped the studios, run the lights, sold the tickets, and attended the shows. They are a great community-oriented group bringing arts and education and healing to everyone they touch.

8. I hadn't heard of the National Network of Abortion Funds until today. Perfect timing! From their site, "Nearly all abortion funds are grassroots organizations that work directly with women and families who face obstacles to abortion." Especially in light of what happened to Savita Halappanavar in Ireland this month I think we need to be expanding our outreach to help save women's lives.

9. Since the first step in reducing the need for abortions is reproductive health then let's not overlook Planned Parenthood's need for funds, either.

10. After yesterday's sad dog story I can't choose just one animal rescue organization. I talk all the time about Rescue Ink, Seer Farms, BARC, Sean Casey, the NHSPCA, and plenty of others. They all need your help but you know what? So does your local rescue. Please give of your time, goods, and money as much and as often as you can.

Thank you. I know you're all generous people and I appreciate that.

*See also my posts from earlier this month detailing good places to support people recovering from Superstorm Sandy.

But Today...Today...She

Little ideas for writing have been dancing through my head all day. So many things to say, so many things going on. Rather than choose anything I just sat on the couch and played with my iPad (engraved with my name!) for a couple of hours.

Mostly I want to write about the amazing lunch I had. My colleague and I had planned to go last week but, you know, snow so we postponed. She'd been on a date to this noodle shop and she was kind enough to share. Spur of the moment we decided to go today. I ordered a miso based noodle soup with shrimp and pork and rice balls and two kinds of tofu and some other things I've forgotten. The noodles were the perfect texture and delicious and the cabbage was fantastic and I could not stop eating it. O had most of the same ingredients but done up in a much spicier broth. It took chopsticks, a big wooden soup spoon and special techniques to eat it all. We got miso on O's glasses and my Blackberry.

The thing is, it's the 3rd of January. It's the day that Mrs. X died. I should write something about her. I want to write that too, but...what?

I don't know if she liked noodles but I'm pretty sure she would have loved to hear about my deep love of my noodly lunch. I know she would have loved that Steph and I rode up north for Christmas together with our dogs. She would have loved Steph's roly poly Charlie and his laid back, sporty traveler attitude. She wouldn't have been mad that I missed our annual breakfast. She would have laughed uproariously at my unparking mishap. She would have liked my caroling story. She would have known all the lyrics to the obscure carols I learned.

I've been thinking about her for about a month, as you do when you know the deathiversary is coming up. Driving around town at Christmas I remembered walking to her funeral. I kept thinking about how she held my hand while we walked into the living room the last time we visited. But I didn't write anything down.

That is, until about 5 minutes ago when I wrote 2 lines and burst into tears. 'Cause I still miss the hell out of her and Christmas, while lovely and calm and truly wonderful this year (you know, until the top speed snow-motivated departure), will never be the same without her.

I love you, Mrs. X, wherever you may be. Thank you for everything.

Done

I have poached this photograph from Steph's site without her permission. I hope she forgives me. I love the picture. The smile is vintage Mrs. X. She's really happy here, you can tell. Though I suspect that if she knew that Steph and I were spreading this picture around the internet we'd be getting an earful.

She died yesterday with her family around her and her cat at her feet.

I'm not going to Florida. I'm going to go to her memorial instead. I want to see Steph and Bud. Selfishly, too, I'm going because I won't be done, I won't feel the end of it, of her, if I don't go. I don't understand how the pioneers did it. I was watching Carnivale the other night and a member of the troop is killed. They bury her in the town where she died. Then they move on to the next town. No grave to visit. A lot of the people in the troop have left their families. Imagine someone going on tour and never coming back, never knowing where they're buried, not having the body returned to you. I don't know if I'd ever feel the person was gone.

They did something else in the episode, though, something I loved. Each member of the troop placed something of importance to them in the grave with the deceased. A dress, a pocket watch, a trading card, a scarf, a doll, things to send her off comfortably and well provided for. When I was 17 and my maternal great grandmother died I was charged to ride from the funeral home to the grave site with my great aunt and uncle. This meant I had to wait at the funeral home with my large, distraught great aunt while she finished her business with the funeral director. I was there when he handed Aunt Catherine a paper bag containing Grammy's wedding ring, her glasses and other personal effects. I was horrified. How would she see? Had she ever taken her wedding ring off before? Why would someone take it off now? I would have liked to have given her something to take with her instead but that wasn't an option.

I wish Mrs. X speed and peace. I miss her terribly.

A little snippet of the trip

Here's an action shot of Mrs. X and Mama Kizz. We were ingesting copious amounts of sugar at the time.

Mrs. X has just been introduced to this blog and she says she keeps looking for herself and getting disappointed. Now, I've written about her before but she hasn't gotten that far, I guess. So, here's a little something for her. I hope she can come in out of the beautiful weather down there in FL for a couple of minutes to catch this entry.

Isn't her haircut great? Queen Bee's dad, Joe the Barber, did it. There's a long story about that which I'll tell later when I've got more time.



This is a hail, hail the gang's all here shot. OK, admittedly not the whole gang but a healthy portion thereof.

ChemE and I try to take Auntie Blanche out for lunch at some point in our home trips for the holidays. Well, we try to do it every time we're home but the holiday one tends to be a bigger deal.

We sat at this table and talked and laughed and got presents for probably close to 3 hours. At one point Auntie Blanche talked about how glad she was to be at a table where people were capable of conversation. Apparently at the home they mix up the tables instead of having all the wanderers and all the chatters and all, er, those who are non copus mentis at separate tables. I believe that right now she's seated across from a lady who giggles occasionally and that's about it. She's willing to pull her weight and do what she can but it's pretty depressing.

This group more than made up for any lack of conversation she's been having at table. Chalk the Auntie Blanche luncheon up as a Christmas tradition that I love.

And see that cool scarf I'm wearing? Queen Bee knit it herself. How long has she been knitting you may ask. Since Thanksgiving. Yes, she's a powerhouse.

Halt!

I dreamt last night that I was working for an injured friend. I had two bags of his laundry and was carrying them many blocks between the two apartments he owned in this dream-reality so that another worker could wash them. Somewhere along the way I lost one. From 4:30 to 6 this morning I continued to dream-worry about the second bag while choosing to do other non-essential tasks rather than retrace my steps and find the white, mesh bag full of unmentionables.

Now, as my ex-pseudo-father-in-law used to say, I told you that to tell you this.

I've been ignoring Christmas. First it seemed far away and then it seemed like something I just needed to take a look at and then it was like a bag of laundry lost somewhere on a ten block walk. I can't even fathom the energy to solve this problem much less apply myself to the task. Every time it walks naked out of the bathroom I avert my eyes.

You know?

A large bit of what I've been avoiding is saying something big. I've wanted to say it, I've bandied it about, I've urged others to say it first but I haven't gone jingle balls to the wall and said it. I'm almost 42. It's time to St. Nick Sac up.

If you're reading this and we have exchanged presents in the past let's please not this year. (Even if you're not reading this expect an email soon 'cause I think I've hit the year where I don't just want this change, I need it.) Sure there are things that I want and need but they're not things that you should or probably even can buy for me. Some of them can't be bought at all. That's OK. You don't need to buy me things. If we exchange food gifts I'm sure we'll continue to do that but as for me? Don't get me anything. Please be sure, it's not that I don't appreciate all the gifts you've given me. I'm fortunate to know a bunch of pretty awesome gift givers. But that's stress, time, and money we just don't have. I'd rather we spent those parts of ourselves differently. (Anyone want to go out for dinner in January?)

Now, chances are, if we've exchanged gifts before, I am actually going to give something. But I'm going to give it to someone else. This year I'm going to sit down and make a bunch of donations in the names of all of you. If you absolutely must give something to, on, around or about me then I'd be enormously flattered if you would do the same. I think it's cool to see what charitable entity speaks to you of me.

I see charities I want to support all the time and then I don't have money right then or I plan to do it when I get home or for Christmas and I just...don't. I'm going to highlight them here at 117 Hudson this season. Not every day, not in a formal gift guide way but here and there in case you're inspired to join me on this charitable holiday thing.

First up the ones I know right off my head, that I already give to.

1. ChemE's mom died of ovarian cancer a long time ago. Most years at Christmas and/or her birthday I go to Charity Navigator, pick the best rated ovarian cancer charity and donate in her name.

2. ChemE and I donate to Habitat For Humanity every year as a memorial for Auntie Blanche. I'm not exactly clear why, though I can guess, but this was AB's top organization to support. We used to give her the donation as her gift and she loved it.

3. Again with ChemE, but we've got systems in place, in honor of Mrs. X who passed away in January of 2007 we trade off donating to The American Lung Association (I use Charity Navigator to see which branch is both geographically close and highly rated) and Heifer International. Mrs. X made a "Heifer & Homemade" policy for the holidays a few years before she died of lung cancer so you can understand why we keep this up.

4. For a few years I've supported classroom projects through Donors Choose for Blondie & The Athlete. I try to choose a project that aligns in some ways with their interests. When I miss Auntie Blanche a lot I'll sometimes cruise the Donors Choose projects and just donate to a music project she'd have liked.

5. On the other hand, this year I might donate to the SPCA in the "kids" names (they're so old now!) as they're both hard core animal lovers.

6. My good friend and yours, Mimi Ferraro (first photo above), is having a Breastival to help with the crippling costs of her treatment for breast cancer (yes, she has and had health insurance, yes, the costs are still more than a person can bear). You can get more information about the event, Mimi and how to donate here.

Now, all this being said, I'm still sending the hell out of a bunch of holiday cards. I can't guarantee they'll get there before Christmas but they'll get there. JRH worked hard on the design and I want people to see it. If you've gotten a card from me before (and not moved without telling me) you'll get one this year. If you haven't gotten a card from me before and you'd like to you can email me at isabeau6 (at) hotmail (dot) com and I'll gladly add you to the list.

Happy Holidays y'all. Thanks for helping me to say my piece. I feel lighter already.

Squeak, squeak, squeak!

While a mouse did run across my foot last week, this is not about that.

Steph has been thinking, talking and writing about disparity in site specific cancer research. As well she should, since her mom has lung cancer. For the record, 16 years ago my mom had breast cancer. Mama Kizz is, as far as we can tell, fully recovered as she remains cancer free. ChemE's mom died of Ovarian cancer almost 30 years ago.

Mrs. X and Steph have both expressed anger and frustration with the amount of money that's being funneled into breast cancer research and the disparate amount into that for lung cancer. So, I've been thinking about that a lot, wondering what steps might be taken.

I'm pretty damned happy about the breast cancer research. I mean, my mom is alive, so are numerous friends and relatives, and the diagnoses, like the hits, just keep on coming. If we didn't have the information and treatment we have I'd likely be looking at a frighteningly shortened Christmas card list.

This doesn't mean I'm happy about the lack of attention being paid to other cancers like those of the lung and of the non-breast girly bits. So I kept batting around the ideas that breast cancer research advocates used to win success and my eyes and ears were attuned. Of a sudden, a relatively unrelated note over at Verb-Ops resonated with me and I realized that Vanx is a good person to bring into this discussion. He writes stuff about pharmaceuticals. Yes, that is the technical description of his job.

I left this comment:

"Dude, you're the person I should be talking to about this, I just somehow realized this. I'm working (in my head) on a post about cancer research and funding. The enormous strides made for Breast and Colon Cancer and the big fat lot of nothing made for Lung and Ovarian cancer. So, look for that will you? I'll be interested to hear your thoughts."

Check that out, I have no idea how to indent when quoting on the blog. Phooey.

Prompt as ever, I got a return comment to a thread below from Vanx:

"You ask an interesting question about cancer research funding. I’m writing a big story [i.e. long and covering a lot of ground] that kind of gets into it. I even stood up and asked your question of a lunch speaker this afternoon, a drug discovery researcher with a small pharma company called Vertex. He told me what occurs to me right off the top of my head—well organized patient advocacy has a lot (the most) to do with it. I would hate to think of where we’d be on HIV if it weren’t for ACT UP, which is the great pioneer group in modern patient advocacy. Loud, but very smart and able to be diplomatic. The second most influential patients’ advocacy community is breast cancer. Colon is not in the same league, but you get the picture. The pharmaceutical industry is a business and a regulated one, very tuned into politics. This speaker says the industry needs to be pushed by patients—he admitted this sounded dangerously close to blaming lung cancer patients for not taking control. There is your landscape.
On the other hand, the scene is changing. I know of a lot of drugs in the pipeline targeting multi-cancer tumors. I think we’ve discussed personalized medicine before. That will help. Perception is reality, however, and the reality is that the well organized squeaky wheel gets the grease.
It’s very Machiavellian
I am talking to all the research honchos in big pharma this month month. You have given me a good question to ask. I hope to have better information very soon, and I’ll file a custom report."

Patient advocacy. Which is something ChemE and I discussed last night. And, when he brings in ACT UP he's talking about patients with a lot of money. The gay community was able to make the enormous strides they did with AIDS research because they started with male-male couples who were, obviously, making the higher dollar amounts that men do in the US at this time and because for the most part each household had 2 of those. There was money to put in the pipeline. Also they had a community and for all that is biblically horrific about the AIDS epidemic the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community found a cohesiveness against this opponent that has benefitted everyone both within and without that community.

This idea of patient advocacy and cash flow would explain the problem getting research for lung and ovarian cancer since most of those people are dead and those illnesses do not target a section of society, or a community if you will, the way that AIDS did. (Obviously I'm not a moron and I know that AIDS didn't target anyone and that it can kill anyone, but it took a bite out of a certain group that was able to stand up for their right to be helped and to be cured.) ChemE was quick to point out that by the time you have symptoms of ovarian cancer you're a short timer, very short. So she gets her CA125 test regularly but in this age of poor, non-existent and difficult to traverse health care she's one of the few. Which brings us right back to money. Money for testing, money for diagnosis, money for treatment, money for research...

Also, it's pretty easy to brand breast cancer as something you want to fund. I'll give you just a few words that will bring dollars rolling in: Mom, daughter, sister, friend, wife, lover. Go ahead, donate now.

Lung cancer patients are, by and large, assumed to have smoked and therefore to have "given themselves" or "deserve" cancer. And yeah, sure, Andy Garcia's character in Dead Again deserved it but Mrs. X not so much. She didn't smoke. So we're to believe it's her fault for growing up in an era where smoking was prevalent and second hand smoke was inescapable. I'm sure most of you know that it's the second hand crap that is linked to higher rates of cancer. If you're sucking it in yourself then you're safer. Hey, that's the angle, she should have smoked so it is her fault.

Um, no.

But how do you brand lung cancer as researchable? Given that colon cancer has a postage stamp I suppose that nothing is unmarketable but we've got very little to work with here. The American Lung Association's last high profile campaign was the Great American Smokeout. (OK, when I looked that up to link it turns out that the Great American Smokeout was sponsored by the American Cancer Society. Whoops. I have no idea what the last big thing was that the Lung Association did for you, maybe nothing.) While that's admirable as a preventative measure for all of us, it does no good to people who already have the disease.

The ovarian cancer issue is just as thorny. Breasts are out there in the world. People like to look at them, it's obvious when they're gone, they're missed even by those who don't own them. Just ask Tommy Lee about the three day bender he went on after Pamela's reduction surgery. Ovaries are far away and inside, no one wants to look at them and we spend half our lives trying to outwit them in one direction or another. They don't make a good stamp. Again, the colon isn't a fabulous stamp either but ever since Katie Couric stuck a camera up her butt on national television the colon cancer people have been, you'll pardon the expression, sitting pretty.

So, no answers yet but I have added Vanx's arsenal to the battle. What can you offer? I'm in the market for all ideas.

Put on your advocacy shoes, people, it's women's history month and so far the news has skewed to the very bad. Gird your loins for tomorrow we discuss abortion, South Dakota and an admirable woman who also happens to be the chief of a Native American tribe.

Just try a little

I've been thinking a lot about the way people who have lived through a profound experience don't feel that anyone else can understand it. Child birth, disease, war, violent attack, whatever.

The thought sharpened for me this week when a friend, a new mother, was talking to me about someone else she knew that she wouldn't see again because, "She can't understand, she's never been married, she's never had a kid." And, well, me neither. My friend didn't mean to hurt my feelings and she wasn't thinking about me either, my role in her life is different than the person in question. Still, it felt awful.

It feels awful every time someone says it. She's not the only person who does this, tons of people do that to their single and/or child free friends all the time.

I'm not blameless, I don't want to imply that. I have a hard time listening to people talk about the 9/11 attacks if they didn't live in New York at or before that time.

The deal is that it's a feeling, so no one can really be blamed for feeling a certain way. We can, maybe, be blamed for not trying to explain our feelings to someone else. There are things about child rearing that I may never be able to understand (just get me started on infertility treatment, I'm sure to say something regrettable) but I get a lot more of it than I think I often get credit for.

I've been watching Band of Brothers courtesy of Media Guy's boxed set. I admire the way these gentlemen are explaining not only the facts of where they went and what happened to them there but how they feel about it now and how they felt about it then. Isn't that what we ought to do? In understanding are we not able to move toward repeating the same mistakes?

This seems a natural way to introduce something I've been wanting to write about for a while now. There was a writer on the internet named Jessica. I came to her blog quite late. I jumped there from a link on someone's infertility blog. The sketch of the story is that she was undergoing infertility treatment and was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I read with interest as Jessica wrote serious essays about slowly letting go her dreams of having a child and grasping the seriousness of her disease. She also wrote poems and songs about the indignities and frustrations of the disease and her treatment. Not long after I began reading the posts dwindled.

On May 12th Jessica died.

Her family, in accordance with her wishes, is keeping the blog up through July 15th and then will close it permanently. I have corresponded briefly with her husband who allowed me to link to the blog and to quote a particular article. He is a lovely man and I am sorry for his loss and grateful for his generosity.

Read the whole thing, go quickly, July 15th isn't far away. The post I want to talk about is here. Go read it, then come back.

The post, Reflections on a Yellow Jersey, talks about the practice in our society of likening cancer patients to sports figures or, more usually, to warriors. "Cancer myth making at its best -- myth making that vastly misleads the American public about the state of cancer research and that portrays a simultaneously reductive and conflicting image of contemporary cancer survivors." She was infuriated by the way this manages to essentially place the blame on patients who don't fight hard enough.

"The fear of cancer lives on. The corridors of hospitals across the world continue to echo with the relieved proclamation "It's not cancer!" while at the same time countless numbers of those chorusing this refrain unquestioningly suspect that with the kind of progress touted by reports like CBS's Sunday Morning, most people experience cancer as a chronic illness, and all it takes to do so, or to beat it, is a Lance Armstrong-like will to live."

This is, as you know if you read the article before you finished this piece, a fallacy. The same number of people are dying today of cancer who have in the past. Even when those numbers are massaged to account for changes in the population. The actuality is that there has been advance in treatment but not in cure. There is still no cure and the treatment works well on some kinds of cancer and not on others.

I know rather a lot of people who have or had cancer. MamaKizz, Mrs. X, Audio Girl, Heaterly, Mrs. Bricklayer, Theresa, ChemE's mom, a number of MamKizz's neighbors, Grammy Charlene, Grampa John. If I sat here long enough I could think of many more. I don't claim to know everything there is to know about the process of treatment but I do feel safe making a blanket statement that people do not want to advocate for a cure or make political statements while they are being treated. It takes all your mental and physical powers to make the decisions and navigate the treatments and continue whatever parts of your "normal" life still require your attention. So, as I've probably said before, it makes sense that testicular cancer, breast cancer, lymphoma and prostate cancer have large and vocal advocacy groups. A large enough number of patients with cancer in those areas of the body survive and are then able to fight for research money, for awareness.

I believe the information that's coming out that says that cancer treatment is successful on specific types of tumors and that these types of tumors can show up in any part of the body. As it's set up now research money is distributed to people who study specific parts of the body rather than specific types of tumors. It seems to me that needs to change. I certainly hope that, if it does, larger strides can be made in treatment and toward cure.

I'm inclined to stand up and scream, "This is so obvious! Why is no one changing this? Who won't someone fucking well stand up and put a stop to this idiocy?" But I'm smart enough to know that if someone is in a position to stand up and yell something like that it's likely that the person yelling is going to be identified as the person to stand up.

So, I'm standing up, and I'm asking for help. I don't know how to make these changes. I don't know how to focus more energy on the types of tumors that are more likely to appear in the lungs, the ovaries, the uterus, the brain. I don't know how to take the small funds I have to donate and maximize their effect. I don't know who is in a position to make even a small shift in the way that research money is awarded. I'd like to know. And if enough of us stand up and yell I hope we can find out. Even vague notions are welcomed.

I'm sick. I'm sick of seeing people I love die. And you ought to be too. I'll let you know if I find out anything useful. In the meantime I'll just keep on yelling until someone hears me.

1 Down, A Lifetime to Go

A year ago today Mrs. X died.

It felt like the big hurdle would be getting past a Christmas without her. We did well. The rest of us (Steph, Bud, Mr. X, ChemE, Mr. ChemE) got together and had breakfast. We didn't have time to go back to the house and see their tree and the changes he's made to the house. Next year I hope we will. Bud had some pictures of the headstone, which is lovely. She's buried in VT and is probably covered in snow right now.

It doesn't feel possible that a year has passed. I know everyone says that but how can everyone be wrong, you know? I...I almost didn't write this because I couldn't make words and form them into sentences. It's still a lot of feelings that aren't completely formed.

I miss her.

I guess that's all that needs to be said.

Me at 37

I'm 37 today.

OK, I could actually happily just leave it at that. I'm not excited about it or upset about it or really anything at all, I'm just 37. I did manage to make an entire weekend out of it, though.

Thursday: Hockey with my cousin, Mike. Rangers v. Flyers courtesy of my generous boss and his season tickets. I treated myself to a beer and also ended up with this conversation:

"What day is the actual birthday?"
"Monday. I'm going to (insert full list of weekend's activities)."
(incredulous) "You like your birthday?"

Friday: Kept to my new plan of making a specifically timed schedule for my work days at home and got a ton of stuff accomplished, including a nap! Got slightly dressed up, met up with Teddy's Girl and we walked over to Freddy's to see Alex play. He was great and I like the new band a lot. We even walked through the park on the way home and ran into a pack of puppies during the off leash hours. Fun!

Saturday: Rehearsal for the Chekhov. I love these people. It's been a long, long time since I've properly directed anything and it's like trying to walk the dog the day after bowling. Everything is a little stiff and sometimes there's pain in a joint when I try to move it. But I think I'm doing a decent job of it and I'm having the most fun ever. More about how godawful small the rehearsal room was later.

Sunday: BRUNCH AND BOWLING! Bottomless mimosas, people. A cake for which the frosting alone required 27 ounces of chocolate. And there were 3 layers so there was frosting between every one. (Thank you PonyExpress!) I bowled pretty well, too. Came in second to someone calling himself Mayor McCheese but not by too much which was pretty good for not bowling in a year. Then we broke at least one law by cramming 5 adults into a Honda and using a toddler as a lap belt and took everyone home. On the way back to the 'hood we got KFC and sat around on the couch watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour and letting the dog drool on our ankles in hopes of chicken.

Today: Nuthin', just like I like it. I didn't even motivate out of the house in enough time to catch a movie. Read some Alice Walker, got up late, napped, read the e-mail. The mail, both electronic and snail, was quite lovely. Many birthday wishes and an envelope with toast tongs and lip gloss (thank you Chili!), a CD (thank you M!) and a postcard from Mrs. X. Florida is apparently doing right by the X's. Now, the birthday e-card from JAM, no message, just the card, was totally weird but I guess every birthday should yield a little weird. I'm watching the Gilmores on DVD and contemplating my horoscope.

According to Papa Kizz's phone call today my horoscope tells me to just reach out and grab the ripe fruit of opportunity that will be hanging all around me this year. I'm a little peeved since I think it implies that if the year tanks it's 'cause I didn't reach out and grab right but the thought of being surrounded by everything I want within my reach is very cool.

I went back and forth on posting this picture but I think it's good for me. This is me, showered but otherwise unfixed on the day I turned 37.

Here's Something I'd Completely Forgotten About

This was Lesterhead's first NaBloPoMo and she accidentally dropped out of the running as of the 24th. Frankly with all she does with her days I don't know how she managed to stay in it that long but she did and there's always next year! Way back at the beginning of this year's adventure she posted a meme I wanted to do so I marked it to come back to and just now got all the way back there.

1. Do you have a tattoo? No. I would really like one but I have both pain and commitment issues.
2. How old are you? 38 for a very short time longer.
3. Are you single or taken? Single but quite taken with myself.
4. Fish? To eat, sure, though preferably shellfish, but to do, not so much.
5. Do you dream in color? Yes.
6. Ever seen a corpse? Yes. Plenty of times. Not a fan of the open casket thank you.
7. Hipsters or Hillbillies? Hillbillies.
8. How did we meet? You were manning a PUPS table at the greenmarket and I stopped by to say hello to Kath.
9. What's your philosophy on life and death? Life is good but please be fully prepared for your death. Anything less is rude.
10. If you could do anything with me, and have no one know, what would it be? I'd ask you to go shopping with me to get an outfit that's far hipper than the rest of my closet.
11. Do you trust the police? Not much.
12. Do you like musicals? So very much yes!
13. What is your fondest memory of me? I loved how Queen of the Evening you were at your CHB anniversary party.
14. If you could change anything about yourself what would it be? My complete inability to forgive people who have wronged me.
15. Would you cheat ? Have. I'd like to say I wouldn't again and I really probably wouldn't but...well, never say never.
16. What are you wearing? Oh, I should have read through the meme before I jumped in, shouldn't I? Ankle socks, wool socks, leggings, tank top, old mock neck sweater with too short arms, granny panties. It's what I wore to dance class this morning (with jeans over for the ride there and back) and I haven't quite gotten over it at all.
17. Have you ever peed in a pool? Not that I recall. Rephrase this for other bodies of water, though and...
18. Would you hide evidence for me if I asked you to? Depends on the severity of the crime. Sorry.
19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together? We don't know each other very well yet, it'd have to be pretty specialized circumstances if we spent your last day together. If we did, though, I can say for sure that we'd do whatever you wanted to do.
20. Which do you prefer - short or long hair? Short.
21. What's your favorite day of the week? Sunday.
22. What's your favorite color? Blue, especially cornflower and midnight.
23. If you could bring back anyone that has passed, who would it be? Oh good lord this is impossible. Er, god, I can't bring myself to do it. The names that are winging through my mind are my grandfather, an old school friend who killed himself, Shakespeare, Chekhov, Martin Luther King, Jr., the Kennedy brothers, wow, there are no women on that list. Mrs. X. Yeah, if I have to choose just one I choose her. How soon can we make that happen?
24. Tell me one interesting/odd fact about you? My hair is so cowlicky that my hair dresser talks about it almost constantly. She often can't cut my hair exactly the way she wants to because the cowlicks dictate otherwise.
25. What was your first impression of me? Very nice, super hip (but not disdainfully so like a lot of people I call hipster), smart, generous.
26. Have you ever done drugs? Couple of gentle inhales but, honestly, that's it.
27. Will you post this so I can fill it out for you? Sure!

Thanks for helping me keep up with the NaBloPoMo, I needed the boost.

I Can't Believe I Last Looked At This List in July

I think my #1 goal for 2008 should be "Check in on this list once a month no matter how scary it feels." I'll go through the list one more time now and then work on a list for 2008.

1. Get regular vocal coaching - This has become harder since it involves finding a new coach now that Jay is dead. I might have to split it up into 2 goals now. It sure didn't get done in 2007.

2. Record full-length CD - I have got one more track down on this. And that's as far as it went.

3. Scudder Memorial (Jan) - subbed Mrs. X's service for this. DONE

4. Finish DVD - DONE

5. Night Before Christmas for fam (make a book? buy them?) - Yeah, not done and I'm ambivalent about it since I wasn't even asked to read the story this year on Christmas Eve. Still I might do it. I'd love to see what sort of NBC Robert would illustrate. I did buy them for the kids, though, so DONE.

6. Memorize Night Before Christmas - This seems much less important. I don't think it's going to make the 2008 list.

7. Continue Floor Barre classes - The head cleavage dimmed the wattage on this since Thanksgiving but it's a habit and I'm sure I won't stop it.

8. Add another hour per week of exercise - I've added walking, plenty more than an hour a week. I think I need to add an hour (3 20 minute sessions) of weight training.

9. Teach at NSCC (April) - got canceled, not of my own accord. Sub in "Hold brunch at my house" and it's DONE.

10. See Red Molly in MA (April) - got canceled due to time and budgetary constraints with the wedding and the funeral and stuff. Sub in "Throw dinner party" and its also DONE.

11. Submit play to 20 places - I've done 1.

12. Book Shakespeare 20 places - I'm still on the verge of 1.

13. Go on a date - I feel that my zipperhead makes this a little more challenging for the forseeable future but I do want to change my attitude about the whole process.

14. New Year at the steam pipes - I'm doing that in a few hours after dinner at K&A's pad and I'm really looking forward to it.

15. 2 field trips with Alita - We did one to the aquarium and I think we can count Santaland and Wolves in the Walls so three total, cool!

16. Write 6x/week on blog - I've been writing 3 times a day most days for a few months so this is a habit and I'm pretty sure I'll be sticking with it.

17. See Avenue Q - DONE!

18. Post-Thanksgiving Open House - It was fun, too. DONE.

19. Make 3 cross stitch bibs (Music Baby, ProfDoc kid, Miflohny baby) - I did 2 and the 3rd kid is probably too old for that so I'm letting it slide. What goes in this crafting slot this year? Learn to knit?

20. Find director for Chekhov - I had a meeting with a potential director.

21. Reading of Chekhov

22. Full production of Chekhov

23. Sing live - I sang at the nursing home about a year ago. I'd like to do more of that and I'd like to sing in other venues too, but due to #1 on this list...let's just say it's a challenge.

24. Hang pictures

25. Bathe dog once - DONE! Poorly but done.

26. Perform at Boerum Hill nursing home sing along - DONE!

27. Pick songs for nursing homes show

28. Learn songs for 27 - I did work on this and on 27, clearly it's not a priority.

29. Book 5 nursing home shows

30. Lobsterbake (June) - DONE.

31. Cook Christmas dinner - DONE

32. Do stockings for Christmas - I did other gifts instead and it turned out that other people did stockings so it all worked out.

33. Polish up 3 short stories - I've done a second draft of one and sent it to Wayfarer for more comments.

34. 20 short story submissions

35. Go to Met Museum

36. See an opera

37. Go to MoMA

38. Go to Frick - If I'd looked at this list I might have gotten myself out the door and to a museum on Friday, huh?

39. Buy back-up hard drive - DONE (thanks to Mr. Chili)

40. Get back-up hard drive installed - DONE (see above for the thanks)

41. Install Final Draft

42. Learn how to use Final Draft

43. Eat 3 servings of fruits & veggies/day - DONE my eating habits are tres different despite my slacking this month.

44. Finish work filing - DONE

45. Re-do work files

46. Keep work files current - so not done.

47. Donate mattress & box spring - DONE

48. Clean out closets

49. Set up home filing system

50. Gyn appointment

51. Dentist appointment

52. Buy scanner

53. Scan family photos

54. Pay Kath & Alex back for Emily care - I could do more but they always tell me no so I'm calling it DONE

55. Auntie Blanche's birthday - I have no recollection of what I did for this. I did not go home since I'd been back a month before for the reunion.

56. Trip to beach - technically done with the Aquarium trip, letter of the law but not the spirit really. Still, DONE.

57. Art work for CD - DONE (thanks to Alex & Kath)

58. Post photos to Flickr - DONE, it's a habit.

59. Invest 1/2 savings - My savings is in poor shape. Still exists but I've been having to pirate it for regular expenses.

60. See accountant in person - DONE

61. Re-work investments to maximize return

62. Sort out IRA contribution

63. NaBloPoMo - DONE

64. Brooklyn Museum - DONE

65. See Coast of Utopia - not an option anymore, sub in "Go to 20th HS reunion" and call it DONE.

66. Update address book - I updated my Christmas card spreadsheet but not the address book.

67. Make Christmas cards - DONE

68. Take more photos - Total habit, total love. DONE

69. Go to one Share the Wealth Brunch - DONE

70. Read classic/good-for-me books - I read a good mix this year I think. DONE.

71. Plan birthday celebration - I don't know if this was for Jan 2007 or Jan 2008. DONE on both counts.

72. Go to Aquarium - DONE

73. Set automatic payments for health insurance - Not done and just as well I suppose since I've been urged to switch insurance companies.

74. Bring lunch 3 days/week - Calling this DONE.

75. Give SG1 back to Ulserad - DONE, FINALLY.

76. Get photos framed

77. Eye exam - DONE

78. New lenses - DONE and new frames too.

79. Contact lenses

80. Make out will

81. Inquire about grave plot

82. Renew passport - I got the forms for it.

83. Submit for print audition - Yeeeeah, maybe not just now with my crater face.

84. Submit for commercial audition - Ditto.

85. Write Rena once/month - I wrote a few times and she liked it and we talked on the phone 3 or 5 times so I'm calling it DONE. Again spirit not letter.

86. Write Auntie Blanche once/month - See above.

87. Cook once/month - At least once a month. DONE.

88. Go to Cyclones game - Talked with Kath about this and we'll probably go together this coming summer.

89. Take all vacation days - Why is this so tough, I've got a full week(4 days) left over.

90. Make new cookbook pages - This was something that went out the window after the surgery.

91. God's Love for Thanksgiving - DONE

92. Solve electric meter problem - strides were made but done it's not.

93. Write to The Athlete - DONE/ There is so much despair around this.

94. Write something 15 minutes/day - I still go in and out on this but I'm working on it.

95. Send Christmas thank you notes

96. Read This Is Not Over once/week - This site is now defunct so its not happening. Sub "Attend Father's wedding" and it's DONE.

97. Drink 64 oz. water minimum/day - Totally a habit. DONE

98. Buy rings from Yelle - Sub buy from Queen Bee and I've MORE than accomplished this. DONE

99. Get painting fixed - Pony Express and I jury rigged it since professional services were not available. DONE.

100. Vocal warm-up 5 days/week

101. Physical warm-up 5 days/week

102. Daily vitamin - I stopped doing this because it was stopping me up.

103. Pay extra mortgage payment - I paid some extra over the year but not a full extra payment.

104. Pay off loan from Mom - DONE!

105. Get massage - DONE!

106. Get facial

107. Buy cocktail dress that fits - DONE maybe a couple of times over what with the reunion and the wedding and the weight loss.

It's been interesting to revisit this. Scary but interesting. I'm looking forward to really rethinking my priorities and making a 108 in 2008 list. JRH was instrumental in goosing me along to a 2008 list so perhaps she'll share her list with us here.

Tally: 53 DONE, that's almost half, and since there was progress made on many other things I'm calling it a passing grade since in life showing your work really does count. Really, really.

Click the 107 in 2007 tag below to see all the posts on the subject.