Posts

The Rollercoaster of Life

/6 Comments/by

198H

“You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster. . .  Up, down. Up, down. Oh, what a ride! I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just interesting to me that a ride could make me so. . . so frightened. So scared. So sick. So excited and so thrilled all together! Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing.” ~ Grams on “Parenthood.”

Some have said I’ve been on one hell of a rollercoaster ride this year. I would argue that it’s been more like the Millenium Force at Cedar Point after three corn dogs slathered in yellow mustard and a large plastic baggie full of blue cotton candy. In the past seven months my rickety car has climbed toward the sky, stayed suspended at the top for a few moments in time, and plummeted down at lightning speed – taking my breath away. Read more

Wrestling with Breast Cancer

/2 Comments/by

yay-1561488edit

As I sit here drinking my sixth cup of java my best friend, Monica Wilcox, is walking sixty grueling miles across San Francisco with a gnarly head cold.  It’s hard for me to fathom putting foot to pavement like that when I have to motivate myself to rise and patter to the coffee pot each morn, but she’s been inspired to help put an end to breast cancer.  So, when Save the Ta-tas – an organization simply slathered in Awesome – asked me to be a guest blogger for Breast Cancer Awareness month I knew this was my unique chance to help women and earn a pink ribbon while still drinking my coffee.

I like boobs. I’m particularly attached to my own but I’ve never had breast cancer.  I’ve only known a few tough birds who’ve had it and they knocked it on its ass. However, I have had to strike a bargain with thyroid cancer and that’s close enough for me.  Not to mention that I once found a lump in my breast and had to lay on an ultrasound table while a stoic technician squirted cold goo on my chest and proceeded with a New York style photoshoot sans heavy make-up or the pretty poses. Don’t think for a moment that I wasn’t laying there mentally arranging the calla lilies at my funeral and picturing my family keeling over in grief. Fortunately, for me, I’m just cyst-y. Read more

Is Your Inner Critic An Asshole?

/17 Comments/by

cinema-usher

This isn’t going to be very funny, or witty, or humorous, my friends, but I still think you’ll relate to my son-of-a-bitch of an inner critic.  In fact, I daresay you have one too – possibly a bit less crass, a bit nicer, but you’ve got one nonetheless.

I’m heading in to surgery the day before my 41st birthday.  While finishing up my last semester of college I found a lump in my throat which I blatantly ignored as I studied for finals, wrote my senior thesis, and waited on the edge of my seat to find out if my Valedictorian nomination would mean I had to give a speech to thousands of kids, twenty-some years younger than I, wearing green gowns and caps with yellow tassels.

While I ignored this lady lump on the surface, my subconscious was busy deciding that I needed to move home to be closer to family.  Everyone in my circle asked after my plans “where will you live?” or “what will you do?” I had no idea and, for the first time in my life, I didn’t see a clear vision of my future or of what I wanted. Read more