Sunday, September 17, 2017

I took a writing class a couple of years ago. And the gist of creating a best seller according to the instructor-who had a whole stack of success stories on his bookshelf-went something like this: make a warm, lovely, likable character and at every opportunity do the Very Worst Thing you can imagine to them. (Read yourself some Gone Girl with this in mind. It will totally ruin it for you.)And this is not to say I think I am warm, lovely or likable. You shouldda seen me on Saturday night. I was a wreck. 

Monday-coming home from job one-I got bitten by a dog.
















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Next week(or this week coming up)I'm making some drastic changes to my life and I had been almost laughing(but not actually laughing at all-some people don't grasp the difference) to myself. You say to your life, okay, get ready, we're gonna do a few things differently and your life says, oh really? 




KABOOM



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I got to go to Peak Running With A Twist and score my pair of freeeeeeeee running shoes courtesy of the good people at Cancer to 5K. I(completely straight-faced)told the charming shopkeeper/acclaimed marathoner that I needed the ones that were magical and she nodded in agreement. 

She wasn't kidding and neither was I. 

Then I asked about socks, because The Penguin says cotton is not your friend and she was kind enough to understand that I absolutely required crazy colored ones and she went in the back and hunted some down and they all go quite well with my fully-functional magic wand, no? 


It's not breast cancer pink. It's Badass pink. Completely different. 


That's what I thought too. 

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I had occasion to speak to a woman who's sister died from skin cancer and who's other sibling was diagnosed with stage  4 colon cancer which had metastasized to more organs and if you could possibly find anything good about that conversation-and you could if you looked-we had a few 'colon cancer gets no respect' exchanges and I told her about the giant inflatable colon(rent or own!) and how it would be fun at a pool party and she said she'd pass that on to her sister and we talked about hernias and work and her sister had a hernia too and the woman looked at me and said something like,"And you massage too?!?" and you do not have any idea how good that tiny little sentence made me feel.  

That's all you're really looking for, no? *A little understanding. 

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*Okay. That and a winning lottery ticket. Or two. 





































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