We’re parked in front of the boob tube this weekend watching something on NBC and there’s a commercial for local Breast Cancer Awareness Month events, including a walk this coming Saturday.

As it cuts from the 11Alive reporter to historical feel good footage there’s a shot from the sidewalk up and a dog nose comes into view along with two gigantic hot pink boas on a few nearly indistinguishable figures in black.

I ask The Mc to rewind and pause at which point we find that what a “tawt I sawd” in a fraction of a moment wasn’t a groovy hallucination:it was in fact Kim and I from our walk in 2005.

Yeay for friends in pink!

October…is for living and awareness and thankfulness.

I’m thankful for my breasts, riddled though they may be with cells that don’t conform. I’m thankful for the lumps, and for what the first of their kind reminded me of - before it was too late. I’m thankful for my body whether it chooses to agree or disagree with me on any given day and accept that it, like me; is moody. I’m thankful that several times a year, I get to give back to and cheer for women like me and women who had it all much worse than me (like my girl Mish) who have made it to the other side and join together in celebration. I’m thankful that I can share that with you - and that maybe you go home and feel up your wife (or yourself!) and that maybe by playing telephone with it and talking about it and not being scared to attack it…that one day…we’ll kill it.

Yeay for you, and yeay for us and yeay most of all for booblies!

She’s been abnormally “busy” lately, and we suspect she’s not in a new relationship she’s hiding from us (which we’d like very much!); but rather has decided to become a wet nurse for a litter of abandoned kittens.

Maybe you’d have to know her for that to be funny. Maybe not.

I should have pulled the covers up over my head, silenced the alarm clock, and skipped the entire month of October.

Elmo passed away. My sister had a horrible car accident. My friend Gia had a horrible car accident. My friend Kevin’s car was hit while sitting in front of The Big house and prepping for the corn maze. Kelly’s beloved Kezzy The Wonder Ferret lost his battle with tumors and cancer on Friday. The Mc’s auntie fell ill and was hospitalized. My shoulder/neck is spazaming again and I know the doctor will only tell me to get a massage but that doesn’t count when deep breaths send shearing pain down my neck and shoulder which are a small small annoyance in the grand scheme of things but MOMMY IT HURTS.

Every tragedy and obstacle has a moment of clarity on the other side. They serve as reminders to be thankful or cherish our loved ones while we have them, but really; they needn’t be sent in such deliberate and destructive packaging.

So I’m drafting a note of displeasure to the universe that goes something like this:

Dear Universe,

I like you a lot. I really do. And I just want to point out that I’m a good person most of the time. I eat my vegetables (when forced) and am trying to take care of the body I was given. I pick up stray nails and screws from the roadway when I see them. I don’t litter. I love my friends and try to make sure they know it. I even say nice things to strangers sometimes. No, really.

So please…please…can you not effe with me (or my loved ones) in November? We could all really use some time off.

kloveyathanksbai.

It wasn’t enough that she was in the drama, thespian and debate clubs in high school and graduated with the yellow tasseled necklace that signifies honor roll.

It wasn’t enough that she graduated from Northwestern on the Deans List. It wasn’t enough that while holding down a demanding full time job and teaching part time, she got her Masters in Forensic Psychology from Pepperdine.

Nah.

She had to find a hubby who adores her and rehab a bungalow in LA. She had to sell it for a mint and move to rural Texas to “retire” at an age I won’t disclose, but let’s just say she’s about 25 years ahead of schedule.

No, no.

Retirement won’t work for a self professed “recovering Type A-hole”…so here we have her latest project that will give the Bastrop, TX (and surrounding areas) Chamber of Commerce, local paper and old boy networks a run for their money: http://www.bastropia.com. It’s a nice accompanyment to that other site of hers: http://www.blogsbywomen.org/

Check in, poke around, send ideas if you’ve got ‘em and share the love.

My second knitting class is over, and I’m a smidge more literate for it. I’ve been in a training class for work most of the week, and I might be less literate for that. My mailbox is over it’s size limit (again/perpetually) topping 514 active items last night following the junk purge. I’m never going to get out of that hole. I think I should delete them all and start over.

A few more work/non work projects will come to a close over the next few days, and if you combine that with a sleep binge and some fresh mountain air, I should be human again in no time.

There are things only thirteen hours on a pillow and a few hours of walking can heal.

Or at least words from some dude I know that made sense one time. He said something about not feeling obligated to write unless there was something worth writing about.

I have plenty worth writing about, but I suck. I suck because I stayed out too late playing with the APWBWGTTD gang and had to drag myself out of the house after only 5 hours of sleep. I suck because I was reading email in bed and the trackwheel click on the BB woke The Mc up. I suck because I nearly hucked Grayson across the room this morning when the drooled on me for the bajillionth time. Okay, not really, but I did cuss at him. I suck because at 5am I rolled out of the house without my knitting for class tonight and without having put the top back on the Jeep and it’s supposed to rain. I suck because there’s just too much going on and not enough time for me even though it’s all about me.

How the hell does that work? I’m a black hole? I’m imploding on myself? Fascinating and yet…completely not. Sorry. Did I mention I suck?

Pictures from last night here.