Limbodacious

Group Hug

I was going to write about the things I promised to write about the other day (and I will, I promise), but I would be remiss if I didn't say something about everyone's comments from the last post.  Because... wow.  All of them were truly moving, and I had a good cry while sitting here reading everyone's lists.  I thought about sending everyone an individual reply, but writing an emotional four-page letter to a bunch of people who don't know me from Adam seemed vaguely stalker-ish and creepy.

Sometimes it is overwhelming to think about how much pain there is in this world, that people are dealing with every day.  And it can be infuriating to think of how unfair it is, how these wonderful individuals are unduly burdened with illness and suffering (mental and physical).  Often I want to stomp up to Heaven or Wherever and give Whoever the Hell Is In Charge of This Shit a good kick in the ass. 

Thanks, everyone, for sharing your lists.  I hope that it was at least cathartic to write them down.  Like Cancerbaby said, the Top Three don't even begin to cover it.  I wish there was something I could do for you all, beyond just thinking good thoughts and praying for your pain to go away.  I really wish I could just come over there and give you a big hug.

But the best I can do is to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sharing part of your life with me. 

Intermission.

She found herself hopelessly lost.  She cried out for help, but the echo merely bounced off the rocks and returned to her.  Frozen, she searched the misty landscape with her eyes, and... and...

I swear, I used to be pretty good at this writing gig.  (Seriously!  If you scour the Sale Half Off 75-cent bin at the right roadside vendor, you may just find an anthology with a little something by me.  Although I would never admit to having penned it.)  The problem with this thing we call a blog, at least for me, is that it is too informal and too present in the moment.  (Gah! that was TWO problems!  Where has my strict adherence to antecedent agreement gone??)

When you read a story, the natural ending is, well, the ending.  But I find myself writing about things that are happening right now, the ending simply hasn't happened yet.  Every post is a cliffhanger, and you can't just flip to the next chapter to see how our Beguiling Heroine resolves the situation.  You have to wait, and wait in real time.  And maybe, gasp, you will never know.  Maybe there is no resolution.  My blog is constantly stuck in the suspense of Act 2, without the emotional release of wrappings-up in Act 3.

If my life were a work of literature, I would waste no time selling it back to the used book store.  But instead, I have to live it.  And how tedious it can be.

I feel guilty sometimes, knowing that I am the constant bearer of bad news, that I am not able to provide the moral of the story yet.  There is no happily ever after, not even a thoughtfully bittersweet lesson learned. 

When I chose the name "Limbodacious" for this site, it was an impulse.  I wanted something that conveyed the meaning of "limbo" in some sort of clever play on words.  I tried lots of combinations, but limbodacious was the only one that wasn't taken yet.  Truth be told, I was thoroughly unhappy with it.  When I switched sites, I wanted to change it but didn't, only for the sake of continuity. 

Yet the longer I write, the more apt the title seems.  I am in limbo, I am stuck in Act 2.  But I am kind of bodacious.  Why, just the other day I got all dressed up for my job interview, and as I passed the mirror I almost said, "Hey pretty lady, what's your sign?"  (Okay, no, that's not really the kind of bodacious I mean, but really, I looked pretty good.)

Here I am, documenting that things are happening in my life, no matter how tedious it can be sometimes.  Limbo sucks, but it doesn't totally suck.  And as I look back upon my site, I can see that for every time I wrote something down, there was something happening to write about.  Some of it was bad, some of it was terrible, but some good things crept in, too.  And something good will happen again.

Sometimes I need a reminder like that to get me out of my self-pitying rut, to relieve just a little of that stuck-in-neutral pressure.  And as I read, I realize that I am just dying to know what happens next.  What will become of our Heroine?  The next page is blank, but there is a next page. 

A resolution that would make my English teachers proud will come.  There will be a denouement, and just maybe, a happy ending.  But not quite yet.

She paused, in every direction lay a fog so thick she felt it cling to her.  She continued straight into the grayness with both trepidation and determination.  As she pushed forward, the fog began to lift.  And what she saw amazed her...

In Which I Am Interviewed

1.  If you could have riches for the rest of your life, but had to give up your literacy to do so, would you? Why or why not?

Hmmm, well I guess I could say that I would, and then I would use an infinitesimal amount of the money to pay for literacy classes, but I don't think that would be in keeping with the spirit of the question.  So I will say no, because nobody likes a rich dummy.

2.  Describe one time you did something mean and enjoyed it.

Very recently in fact!  My evil downstairs neighbor complained to some of our other neighbors that our dogs are too loud (she had a petition, for chrissake!).  So I spent the evening hammering, vacuuming, and generally stomping around.  I really enjoyed it.

3.  If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Well, I am going to give the totally boring humdrum answer of where I live now.  Sure, I would love to go to all these exotic beautiful places, but to live?  Not so much.  Maybe if I could transplant everyone I know as well, I would pick Hawaii.

4.  Name one thing in your life you wouldn't give up no matter what the reward or consequence might be. Explain why.

Tricky question, Louise!  My independence, or more appropriately, my privacy.  Many a relationship has fallen apart because of my fiercely private nature, but I will not budge.  It is not that I am hiding some particular atrocity, but I just need my space, my time, my secrets.  People say I emotionally compartmentalize my life.  They are right, and if they don't like it, they can kiss my ass.

5.  You have 24 hours to be completely invisible and undetectable to everyone around you. What do you do?

First, I would follow Boyfriend around to make sure he's not cheating.  I don't suspect him of this, but you can never be too sure, and if I'm invisible, might as well.  Then I would sit in a non-smoking restaurant and blow smoke into people's faces (and sneak bites of their desserts).  The afternoon would be spent changing channels on people's radios and televisions, because that would so never get old.  I would watch a free movie at the expensive theater, and round the night out by sleeping naked on the White House lawn.

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Probably the Strangest Prayer Request You Will Ever Receive

O Internet, I beseech thee... please lift your hearts for the confusing results of an ambiguous test...

Tomorrow I am starting the 2-3 day process of an important test.  The test will determine whether I have Good Plan B or Similar Yet Somewhat Shittier Plan C to fall back on if Doxil doesn't work. 

I have had a bad feeling about Doxil for a while.  My gyn/onc says that it is because Doxil doesn't make me knock-down, drag-out violently ill, so I have no concrete reminder that it is doing something inside of me.  Which is probably a good point.  But still, I just don't have a lot of faith in Doxil for whatever reason, so I want to have a safety net planned "just in case." 

So, just pray that my tumor is positive for somatostatin receptors*.  What that means isn't particularly relevant, just hope that I have it. 

* If you google this term, you will drown in ancient medical journals discussing peptides and metabolic diseases.  Don't do it.  You have been warned.

Odds 'N Ends

Even though my unpublished drafts are piling up on me, I am totally digging Louise's overview post, so I am going to copy her.  These are the things I would like to mention, but don't feel like writing a whole post about.

1.  Had chemo today.  Uneventful.

2.  My current obsession is teaching the dogs to swim.  Well, watching them swim.  It took all of five minutes for them to "learn."  I am going to try to put up some pictures of that soon.  Tres adorable. 

3.  Infections galore from surgery, arm, blah blah blah.  Not feeling too hot. 

4.  Trying to quit drinking caffeine.  So if you think I seem a little snarky... no, it's not your imagination and yes, stay out of my way.  Much more on that later.

And finally... this idiot who for some reason clicked on the site of someone on the totally opposite side of the fence (PUN OF THE DAY!!!).  Debbie... is that you??

"Orange" You Glad I Have a New Layout?

Did I mention I have a touch of OCD when it comes to this website?  I promise this is the be-all, end-all blog layout.  The look I was going for was a mango smoothie.  Ju'like? 

If you don't like orange, then, suck it.

I Need to Rant

I considered several topics for my rant tonight.  But when I opened my email, I scrapped them all.

I have had it.  I just received my umpteenth email from Mr. African-Sounding-Name, of American-Sounding Corporation, who despite the fact that he is a gozillionaire, cannot figure out how to transfer funds from one bank account to another.  He needs my help, because we all know how difficult it is these days for filthy rich Americans to launder their money through developing nations.  I have to send him US$5,000 (the "US" preceding the currency symbol validates the fact that he is, in fact, residing in a country I have never heard of, not just some pimply-faced geek trying to make a buck off old ladies).

Primal Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam!!!

The most intensely irritating thing about these emails is that the only conceivable reason they are still being sent out is that people are still falling for it.

Anybody out there even remotely buying this shit?  Anybody?  Who are these dumbasses perpetuating this scam??

If you are reading this, and have sent money to the African-Sounding guy or his Dutch wife, I implore you for help.  My half-Korean, half-mulatto uncle by marriage is being help captive in Zambia, and if I don't deliver US$5 Million in non-sequential bills, the bushmen will cook him in a big pot and eat him.  I have the money, but it is in an abandoned storage locker on the Jersey shore and the owner of the building changed the padlock.  A bolt cutter and new padlock will cost US$4,000.  Please, think of my uncle and the horrible savagery that exists in those places you see on the Discovery Channel.  I will be eternally grateful, and to reward you for your generosity, a white minivan will drive by your house and throw out a sack of cash and some Armani suits.  P.S.  I have just been informed that you have also won the U.K. lottery!  Now you can pay me more!!

Here I Am

I have finally jumped on the Typepad bandwagon, not a moment too soon.  Hope you like the new digs.

In Which I am Schooled by My Little Sister

Yes, I am aware that my blog looks like ass, and thank you for noticing.  I arrogantly assumed that my 100-level course in computer programming and my unfaltering common sense would allow me to navigate the volumes of html neccessary to make my blog look pretty.

This was not the case.  So after altering and tampering the html to the point where it could not be repaired, I went with my tail between my legs to my 15-year-old sister.  Now, I don't flatter myself to think that my life is so fantastically exciting that everyone in the world would want to read about it, but what a 15-year-old is doing with a blog, I don't know.  It is mostly comprised of such gems as:

"OMG So-and-so's butt looked so cute at school today!  I hate homework!  Katie I know you are reading this you loser!! LOL LMAO ROFL JK!!!!1"

I love my sister truly and passionately, but come on.  The point is her blog layout kicks my blog's ass.  So I ask her if she can teach me some tricks to make mine look cool, too.  This is her response:

"I could try and teach you, but I don't know if it's something that can really be taught.  I think it's a generational thing."

O... M... G!

While I am working on this ugly beast, feel free to check out my newly-added, freshly-alphabetized links!  Because back in MY day, we had to alphabetize things (like, you know, those dinosaurs formerly known as BOOKS).