thisismydisease.com

the hell with mccain, palin, obama and biden. what is up with the state candidates?

wouldn’t it just be more sane if we armed them all with boxing gloves or semi-automatics and let them have at each other like they appear to want to? either that or wouldn’t it just be nice if they would get over their sorry-assed, egotistical and useless selves so the rest of us can watch the early morning news in peace?

i vote we each donate a dollar so they can, collectively, get their resumes re-written to be somewhat accurate.

so what with the lies. just make them stop!

election day is my next infusion day. we can only hope that 8 pm will roll around and either the candidates will have decided to play nice - or i’ll be overcome enough to make them stop on my own. in my own head.

eight! eight!! eight!!! eight!!!! yeah we we all love eight!!!!! how many is eight??????

yeah we we all love one!!!!! how many is one??????

with only one day left of this infamously consumer month (and, hopefully, only one day left to even buy that horrid pink spray tan), i’m supposed to be feeling better. alas, i’m not. in fact, i think i might actually be getting sick. it’s either that or this chemo cocktail really sucks, blows and does everything else negatively imaginable. i’ve had a good yet busy week at work (yeah - a software usability project - finally!) - but even sitting at the desk and not moving around a lot has left me feeling worn out, feverish and more sleepy than usual. maybe i’ll take tomorrow off. it’s not like i don’t have the time, after all.

with only one day left, if i play my cards right i might not have to rush out tomorrow - or go out at all. and maybe i can actually watch those movies i bought a few weeks ago. or catch some of the sesame street episodes.

all in all, one is not a lonely number. it’s the number we love. because it’s the number of tomorrow.

as you know (how could you not - unless you live in a snowdrift), october is breast cancer awareness month. bfd. we all know not to get me started on that one. but you can feel free to get me started on this:

breast cancer awareness spray tan

or this:

learn to knit for the cause

or this:

avalon pink ribbon totally not waterproof watch

ok that’s not funny at all - but a person who bought this also bought this:

no fair…you have to click the link

now *that’s* funny - and not necessarily something i would admit to, what with buying a totally not waterproof watch and all.

now do you understand when i say everything is out there getting on the bandwagon!

i’m going back to r & r now - and to count the days until this stupid month is over. i’ll be avoiding amazon until then.

snoopy has developed a vulnerability.

he’s not fetching properly.

he’s confused.

out of sorts.

i think he needs pettsers and kisses.

and a kiss on his nosey.

then he won’t be out of sorts anymore.

this blog is sponsored by the letter 5.

ummm

ah

i mean…

this blog is sponsored by the number 5.

ummm

whatever

this blog is sponsored by 5. got it??? 5!!!!!

you figure it out.

i realised, when i woke up from a much-needed afternoon nap, i was sleeping curled onto my left side.

it’s the first time since february or march.

oh my…it’s been a long week. work has been busy. treatment happened (and sucked as it usually does). i bought new knives (and a sharpener - gotta love amazon) and might get new pots (despite the fact mine are ancient they’re still in perfect condition because they’re tools - but my cooking style has changed sooooo much, though, i think they’re feeling unloved and unappreciated - so it might be time to gift them to someone that’s going to love them as much as i do). my back hurts (thanks to the chemo) unless i’m resting on the wedge. i’m sleepy. i might be in remission. i’ve made arrangements for a certain “group” to be gifted with very large-pawed puppies within the next three weeks. (it’s a cutie group, that’s for sure. and it’s not one of those stupid, inbred pure-breed groups.) i “played” (sent messages - none of those super poke things that can end up with a 2 X 4 to the head) on facebook with a group of new “recruits” (aka people who got sucked into the time suck invented by a group who is not even the demographic). a colleague proved that “lazy-assed” gamers can contribute a hell of a lot more with little to no solicitation than the clueless susan komen “i am celebrating *me* by raising a shitload of money for some admin’s pocketbook because i’m too clueless to know better or, *shock*, do my research” can. (do “the voice”, people. do” the voice”. and by all means wear pink head to toe because we all know how important pink is.)  i managed to only be forced to buy only two (!!!) “pink” useless, lying products this week (and prided myself in *not* mentioning to the guy in line behind me - the guy controlled by his “pink” wife who is just too clueless to understand - that the yoplait “pink labels” he spent so much time picking is nothing but a lie and in fact contributes to the propagation of the disease, not the cure - let’s hear it once more for corporate amerika and self-induced brain-deadness). yeah, it was a long week. the normal. the usual. ish.

and i’m hungry.

poop.

well, at least dear S helped me out with my tennis ball hair (which has to go asap - it’s fugly to the 25th degree and feels like something  one would find at the bottom of a very dirty dry laundry basket). and at least i know that dumbasses mean more in this world than people who do their homework and research and don’t rely on tv. guess i should go watch fox news now. or something.

nah…

instead, i’m gonna go get ready for the fun of later (5.5 hours later in fact) today: a conference call. on a toll number. that we can’t claim. that’s sure to announce something as interesting as obama running for president. yeah. that interesting.

earlier today, while sitting here doing what i do when i sit here (working, for those of you who think you can call during business hours because i work from home and, therefore, don’t really work) and something plowed into the sliding door. since my yard backs onto a golf course i really didn’t think much of it. i figured it was some guy’s runaway (nice way of saying “aimed improperly”) golf ball - so i ignored it. it happened again about 10 minutes later. and again sometime later. each time i ignored it because, well, i was working and really don’t care as long as nothing gets broken.

but then it started at the kitchen window.

for some reason, something bonking at the sliding door doesn’t annoy me too terribly. maybe it’s because it’s in front of me. i don’t know. but something bonking at a window behind me annoys the crap out of me and convinces me little dog is going to go ballistic (which, of course, he cannot because he’s mostly blind and mostly deaf).

so up i got and went to investigate.

in what’s left of the window box i found a cat - a cat bonking his head against the glass and clawing at the miniscule screen with his claws.

pork.

i mean cork.

i mean the puppy-cat that used to be a kitten but took some growth pills and went from being a cute little thing to being one big ‘ole creature in what seems like a matter of days but is, more likely, a matter of months.

my friend.

one of only a handful of cats i happen to actually like instead of tolerate at best.

so cork and i played at the window for a few minutes - and little dog put his head up to try to figure out why mummy was making strange gestures and the like.

so i turned around to see little dog.

and cork zoomed away.

dayam he’s still fast! the additional length, height and weight certainly hasn’t changed that.

i’ll be gone all day tomorrow - but i do hope cork stops by again, if only to look in on little dog. they don’t get to see each other in person very often - and good friends are hard to come by. especially the fuzzy ones.

as for me, i was very glad to see him - but even more glad to have seen him through a wall of glass. his favourite game is “trip the human”. his second favourite game is “trip the doggie”.  neither one of us is very fond of falling down. or very graceful.

so my sister came home from disney world this past weekend and took the time to start, once again, commenting on my blog. ‘probably because she put her money in a mini wallet, put said mini wallet in her coin pocket and lost it - or the “friends” she went there with didn’t pan out. whatever. she’s started to comment again. i left one in the comments area but decided to bring an edited version of the other right here up front:

“[name deleted because someone needs a lesson in blogging 101] …. if E would allow us to support her …. to love & adore her ….. we would. Instead we are left with nothing to do but buy “pink things” so we can (at least for a brief moment) feel like we are doing something.

“Yes … I realize this will piss E off. But, maybe then she will at least talk to me …. even if it’s just to yell at me. Yelling right now would be good. Much, much better than the silence.”

well i was going to respond to this, but i really don’t think it merits response beyond this:

why would i bother to cave into this passive aggressive drivel? why?

you said so much. maybe you should reflect (remember) what you said instead of posting this crap on my blog and expecting people to feel sorry for you. i’m sure  your “friends” will be happy to feel sorry for you.

and maybe you should stop thinking the fact that we’re related means you have rights into my disease. it wasn’t my choice to be born.

and what’s with this “we” shit? you should replace “we” with “me”.

i have a wonderful system of friends - and a wonderful system of support.  i couldn’t ask for better and feel blessed for these people.

i’m going back to my silence now.

i apologise in advance for those visitors that understand how blogging works, either due to studying it at length or not happening to need an explanation because the concept just makes sense. feel free it ignore this post.  now…

…for those of you who, for whatever reason, need an explanation, here it is:

this is my blog. mine. not yours. mine.

i write a post, apply the necessary categories and, sometimes, tags  - and hit “publish”. my post gets picked up by various rss feeds (which is another topic of discussion) and aggregators (again, another topic), etc. people read the post and, sometimes, respond to me. this is called “comment”. i accept, decline or spam the comment and, sometimes, comment back.

this is my blog. mine. not yours. mine.

this is not a case of i write a post, apply the necessary categories and, sometimes, tags  - and hit “publish”. my post gets picked up by various rss feeds (which is another topic of discussion) and aggregators (again, another topic), etc. people DO NOT read my posts and, sometimes “comment” to my friends and, in this case, caregivers.

this time, the comment is getting published (because it’s monday night and my latest project just launched successfully, despite internal issues). next time, it might get spammed. or not. and if it does get spammed every subsequent comment might also get spammed. or not.

this is my blog. mine. not yours. mine.

if you want your own blog go get it. there are even free ones to be had. but for the gods’ sake stop relying on your idea of how things are and learn how they really are.