Okay, I’m pretty sure that’s not a blog post heading one sees too often. But it’s true – at least by last count in the poll, most were thinking that either Zen was the answer to all my problems (umm, or at least FBE), or that this was nothing but a case of lingering bike crash detritus. Which is all well and good, though Alert Reader T-Odd did point out that I forgot to put the all-important “God factor” as a poll choice. Namely, that God is smiting or punishing me for.....something. God knows what. Taking his name in vain maybe? I dunno, cancer and a potential lurking brain tumor seem a bit harsh for that, wouldn’t you say so God? I mean, Jesus fricking Christ, enough already. Anyway, I figure that God is punishing me for that indefinable something via The Cancer, so we don’t want to necessarily blame him for everything. Because then he might really get pissed off. Gee, and then what? (Picture me rolling my eyes here....)
I also forgot that Motya once mentioned that the FBE could be because I’m “not fighting cancer enough,” that I need to “fight harder.” So true! That one I think we can just take as a given.
And finally, I also forgot the scariest option of all: that they won’t figure out what the deal is and I’ll just have to live with FBE until it disappears just as suddenly in 8 months or so. That would indeed suck, because have I mentioned yet how REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING the whole FBE thing is? I have? Oh, okay then.
I have noted with interest that no one has yet selected the “brain tumor” option, which is a good thing. Because even though I don’t believe in such things, I’d have to then track that hapless person down and beat the crap out of them for sending the Bad Luck Fairies in my general direction. Hey, no sense taking chances here, okay??
Other random notes:
• When you read in the paper that after you get your fresh Christmas tree you should put said tree in a bucket of water outside for 24 hours so that it “soaks up tons of water and stays fresh longer!”, that’s great advice, as long as you live in Florida. What the hell, why are OUR newspapers giving people such asinine advice? Because I really enjoyed it today when I had to haul inside said tree that was frozen into a bucket of ice. I can hardly wait to see how long this puppy lasts.
• Speaking of trees and their accoutrements, what’s the deal with stores NOT selling Christmas tree stands? I went to several stores yesterday – nada. Well, except for the stand that has some tubing attached to it that you wend up into the tree, attach it to branches, and at the end there’s something that looks like a big funnel that you apparently pour water into. “No more messy water-adding to your Christmas tree stand!” Okay, so really, as a nation, just how hard do we find it to bend over and pour water into a Christmas tree stand, for god’s sake? I mean seriously, do I look retarded?
• On second thought, given that I wound up thawing a bucket-o-tree in my kitchen today, then put up the tree with the assistance of two Dobermans (yes, I’m fostering Bell for the holidays, or until she’s adopted) who tried to munch on the branches as if it were their own personal salad bar, and who also decided the tree-stand-water was much tastier than their regular water.......well, let’s just not ponder that question too long.
• Finally, Alert Reader Brian has also suggested an addition to the “Holiday Tips for Dealing with the Cancerous Person in Your Life” list. And that is essentially that anyone who asks asshat questions of
the PWC (“Why aren’t you drinking? Wimp.” “Hey, gained some weight there, huh?” “So, I heard someone talking about this blurry eye thing of yours – what’s that all about? Getting old??”) should be held up as an article of ridicule for the rest of the evening once they’re told that the PWC actually has cancer. I am totally on board with this, of course. Ignorance is no excuse, and those are rude probing questions in any case, but even more so when the responses are “It’s the cancer!”, “It’s the cancer drugs, asshole!”, and “It might be a brain tumor, so STFU!” respectively. And this reminds me of the time when I was out to dinner with Jon and Liz and a few other people – and Gary told us all this delightful story about this guy we mutually knew, who we had played hockey with, who was young like us and who got cancer......and died shortly thereafter. Of course after a short stunned silence we all leapt on Gary like a pack of wolves and mocked him mercilessly for the rest of the night. “Hey Gary, we’re getting a bit too festive here. Why don’t you tell us another great story about some young person you know who died of cancer??” Ah, good times.....
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