Perplexity

OK, so I have to admit I get a little miffed these days when I come across articles about ways to reduce your risk for cancer, etc. (and there are lots of these articles out there). Before I got diagnosed with lymphoma, I could have checked off every box on the "what to do to not get cancer" chart. I am not a smoker. I ate pretty healthy; was practically vegetarian, in fact. I was active, running at least 15 miles every week, sometimes more. And don't even get me started on drinking green tea.

But none of that protected me from cancer. I was the poster-child for not getting it, and I got it. And there's no way to guarantee I won't get it again.

I don't understand.

I have a CT scan scheduled for December as part of my followup testing. I know I'll be nervous about it when the time comes. The thought of ever having to go through chemo again is so awful, I can't let myself contemplate it for more than about two seconds. Especially now that I'm feeling better than I've felt in a long time. As recently as this past August there were days when I could barely walk. Now I've started running again, and getting back in shape. I'm planning to run a half-marathon next year. And yesterday I went on a hike that was 2 hours pretty much straight uphill, and barely broke a sweat! I am the picture of perfect health.

Yeah. Perfect health with a biopsy scar and at least two more years of cancer testing still ahead of her.

What a weird world.

Happy Birthday To The Frogg Files!

I didn't mention it in my last post as I had slightly more important matters to blog about, but the frogg files just celebrated its fifth anniversary yesterday. Yay! Although when I say "celebrated", I really mean "did nothing to comemmorate the event". I realize that's not how most people define the word "celebrate", but welcome to my blog, where words mean pretty much whatever I want them to. I mean honestly, what good is an MFA in creative writing if I can't redefine the English language at will, right? (Please do NOT answer that.)

Anyway.

I've looked back through the archives every so often, and am bemused at some of the stuff I've written about. Sometimes I made myself laugh, and those posts remain favorites of mine to this day. Other times, I made myself cry, and those posts kind of make me laugh now, when they don't make me want to bury my head in the sand in embarrassment. But one thing's for sure: If anyone had told me five years ago that I'd still be writing my little heart out at this site, I don't think I'd have believed them. And yet, here we are!

Many thanks to all my lovely readers. I wouldn't be here without you! Well, OK, I would. But I might not be writing this blog, and that would be a shame, because it's been a lot of fun overall. And I consider it an honor to have merited your attention (although you might not guess it from how many posts I've devoted to totally random and inane observations; i.e., most of them).

ANYway. I'm not sure how much longer the ride will last, but I guess I'll take it one day at a time, as always. Hope you'll stick around!

With kisses, and a big hug, from the frogg princess...

I Survived The Cowgirl's Bridal Shower

Yesterday was my sister the cowgirl's bridal shower. As the maid of honor, I was nominally in charge of the event; in actual fact, I was graciously, kindly and most expertly managed by the other two women involved in putting it together — probably because they knew that nothing would ever get done if it was all on me to do it. I am not what you'd call a good party planner. I run from that sort of responsibility in total terror as a rule, but this time I really didn't see any way of getting out of it, what with being the aforementioned maid of honor and all.

Just kidding. Sort of. The truth is, I don't usually like being in charge of events because I'm afraid of screwing it up and not getting everything exactly perfect — and in this case, the stakes were rather high because I definitely didn't want to let the cowgirl down, of all people. For one thing, she's my sister and I love her and would hate to throw her a crappy bridal shower. For another, she's way too handy with a rope and spurs and God knows what else, so pretty much the last thing I'd want to do is get her mad at me for throwing her a crappy bridal shower.

You see my dilemma.

But thanks to the other people involved, everything went off quite well. The food was great (of course, since I had nothing to do with making it) and the weather cooperated by being not-too-hot, but just right so that we could all eat outside in the courtyard at my parents' house as planned. The gift-giving time was also lots of fun, though I freaked out at the beginning a little bit because I had forgotten all about the fact that you're supposed to make a "bouquet" out of gift ribbons for the bride until a friend asked me, "So who's making the ribbon bouquet?" Uh, oops. Thankfully someone was there who was good at that sort of thing, and I happily delegated the job.

Unfortunately, no one wraps anything with ribbons much anymore; it's all gift bags these days, and we realized after the third or fourth gift that that might spell trouble not only for the bouquet, but for another bridal tradition — the one about the bride having as many kids as ribbons she breaks. But eventually she did get a few ribbon-tied gifts, and boy did she work hard at breaking those suckers — the ribbons, I mean, not the gifts. She got up to about four, after which point, when she was struggling to break a particularly stubborn ribbon, I said, "You're already going to have four kids, how many do you want?"

"I don't want any!" she said, tugging away at a particularly stubborn ribbon.

"Then why on earth are you breaking the ribbons?" I said as everyone kind of laughed, but kind of didn't because I think they weren't sure whether she was joking or not.

She gave another heroic tug on the ribbon and shouted, "I'm doing this for you guys!"

She's way more selfless than I am, that's all I can say.

Anyway, it ended up being a great day, with time spent praying for her, laughing with her, and just enjoying being together. I'd post pictures, but um, I forgot my camera (I know, I know... I'm probably a strong candidate for lamest maid of honor ever). So you'll just have to imagine it, I suppose, until people forward me some pics from their cameras. Which I probably won't post actually, because by then I'll probably have wedding pics to share instead! Oh well.

Oh and in case you're wondering, she made it up to seven broken ribbons, so... looks like one of these days, I'll have my hands full being the coolest aunt in the world.

Classic Confusion

Will someone explain to me why my "Chamber Music, Baroque period" Pandora station insists on throwing in music by Mozart (Classical period) and Bela Fleck (contemporary bluegrass/folk)? I mean, don't get me wrong. I like Mozart and Bela Fleck. And OK, at least Mozart is pretty much in the same general ballpark. But it's a little weird to go from, say, Brandenburg Concerto #5: Allegro, to the Clarinet Polka (?!).

Maybe it's just me.

Some Like It Hot

Everyone keeps saying, "Isn't it great that the weather has finally cooled off?"

I smile and nod, but I don't really mean it. Inside I'm sad. I miss summer already...

I Survived My Night In The Cemetery

So the Bon Iver concert was quite awesome, and the logistical negatives were surprisingly minimal, considering it was an event located in the heart of Hollywood. The only real "hiccup" happened when we arrived at the cemetery only to be told by a security guard that they had no more parking available, but if we drove about a block away, we could park in another lot. What's wrong with that, you ask? Well, nothing really — if your definition of "a block" is "a quarter mile." Let's just say that ours wasn't.

But other than that, it was a great night. We arrived at about 2:30 a.m. and met up with friends who had staked a claim "near the palm tree," as they said — which was funny because there are kind of a lot of palm trees in the Hollywood cemetery. However, we did find them, and just in time to catch the end of Bottle Rocket, which was being projected on a large wall for the benefit of anyone who felt like what they really wanted to do at almost 3 in the morning was watch a movie (instead of, say, sleep).

After the movie, we were treated to a DJ set "specially selected" for the evening by Justin Vernon aka Bon Iver, which was probably another way of saying that they hooked up his iPod to some speakers and set it to random shuffle or something. (Kidding. Sort of.) Then, another movie, this time part of the renowned Planet Earth documentary. At least, I hear it's renowned. I've never actually seen any of it myself. And quite honestly, I still haven't — I was asleep or just plain not paying attention for most of it that night/morning.

At 5:15 a.m. some Buddhist monks provided their version of Gregorian chant (I suppose) and blessed the stage. And then finally, Bon Iver took the stage at 6 a.m., starting off with a version of his song "Lump Sum" that made me shiver.

Or it could have been the cold morning air and fog, I guess. But either way, it was good. The whole performance was just fantastic, and I'm really glad I went.

Now, what "crazy" thing can I do next... any suggestions?? (Oh, I'm going to Boston next month! Does that count?)

Me vs Me

Tonight I am doing something kind of bizarrely out of character. I'm going to the Bon Iver Sunrise Concert @ Hollywood Forever cemetery.

It's not so much the going-to-the-concert part that's out of character, though goodness knows I don't go to very many. It's the fact that I'm actually meeting up with friends at 1:30 a.m. to head over there so we can basically camp out — yes, in the cemetery — until the concert starts at 5:20 a.m. tomorrow.

Now, the old, pre-cancer me would have been like, "That's crazy" when my friend told me she was going. The old me would have mentally ticked through the list of all the reasons why it would be an inconvenient, exhausting hassle and come to the conclusion that there would be no possible way that any performance could be good enough to balance out all the logistical negatives of such an endeavor. The old me would have said, "I am too old." (I know. Sad, right?)

The current me thought, "Hey, I like Bon Iver! That sounds awesome!" (Thank God.)

Turned out my friend had a friend who had extra tickets. So I decided to buy one. Because frankly, sometimes it's just better to say "Why not?" than "Why bother?" And by the way, I'm so glad I had to go through cancer to come to this oh-so-profound conclusion about life. Argh!

(On the other hand, "Why bother?" is a question that I fervently hope will always apply to, say, bunjy jumping. Because if it ever doesn't, I really will worry about my sanity. I mean, a lot more than usual.)

Alright, both me's need to at least attempt to take a nap before they — I mean, I — go to this shindig. So good night, my lovelies, with kisses as always from the frogg princess...