Hello again, fans and friends, if I have any left at all after this lengthy absence. I am trying to expunge the first half of 2011 from memory. Why expunge? Well, after three rounds of chemotherapy under my belt followed by a twice daily regimen of heavy steroids, immune suppressant drugs, blood pressure medicine, antibiotics and multiple other less infamous drugs for at least the next several years, I am ready to forget this year. On the up side, the illness that got me there is not progressing at least. I can always find a silver lining because, as all my friends can tell you, I am an optimist. A cheerful, head in the clouds optimist.
So, I'm just going to return with a simple list- some rants, some unsolicited advice, some observation. Please be assured that I will shortly deliver my third and final installment in my series about why boys are stinky and worthless until they're 30 or so. But for now, this is what you get:
1. There is person of indeterminate gender working in my building. I really can't tell if it is dude or lady and it doesn't matter. In fact, I am a little fascinated by him/her. Why? Because we look a lot alike- same haircut, same build (my man boobs are a little smaller than his/hers), same glasses and same general manner of dress. He/she favors more brightly colored shirts and ties, but over all, we could be brother and sister/brother. Tell me, and be honest, is it hard to tell what gender I am because now I'm a little paranoid?
2. Advice to parents who have friends who are not parents- shut the hell up about your kids and your family activities when talking to your non-parent friends at least long enough to ask us how we are. That's the minimum you have to contribute to at least acknowledge that you are not just talking to a smiling, life size cutout of your childless friends. Yes, I adore your children and really do want to know what is going on with them. BUT, if 15 minutes pass and you observe that I have been only saying "Wow" or "Oh that's neat" or "Really?", then you better throw me a bone. Just saying.
3. I have so many needle marks on my hands and arms at this point that I look like a heroin junkie. If I must suffer this way, can't I at least have the gift of looking thin like a real junkie?
4. I hate it when people talk about me when I'm not around. No I don't hate that. I hate it when people say something cute like "Was your nose itching Saturday night because we were talking all about you?" I don't even hate that so much. What I really hate is when I ask them what was said and they say shit like "Oh nothing" or "All good things." Be specific, motherf*cker. Be specific or I will cut out your tongue in your sleep. See how much I hate that?
5. Related to #4 above, how boring is that conversation ? Snore. I haven't caused a good scandal in at least 20 years. I am an IT systems analyst and project manager. I live in the suburbs with my husband and two dogs. I make quilts. Jesus. I really should liven it up a little.
3 comments:
You are excused from blog writing but I'm glad you're back! I am glad to hear that all the awful treatment seems to be working...just wish you didn't have to do it at all. And I wish I was a good cook so I could make you something nourishing and full of love but I made pillsbury biscuits and sweet corn for dinner last night. I don't remember even making anything tonight...I should ask my kids...
1. You look like a tall dark handsome MAN! Seriously. You're a looker.
2. Do I do that? Slap me if I do. But my kids are far more interesting than I am.
3. You're hawt.
4. It was all good things, I swear.
5. I love you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I love you? Sorry, my FB friends and I were remembering R&H Cinderella tunes. Seriously you're great.
My gender class is freak but clearly you only have one foot in this class, I'm guessing man for the other half? :-) Last night on the train ride home sat an indeterminate Asian being. I wish you'd been there to help me figure it out.
Your next quilting project must include a large rendering of my new mantra courtesy of you "Be specific, motherfucker".
I'm glad to hear your illness has stalled.
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