Friday, 22 May 2009

float on

some pictures of the celebratory balloon ride:

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Now back to real life, back to solid ground.

I've been trying to handle all of my post-cancer emotions like an adult, i.e., not bitch about anything and keep the pain to myself. Like all of that hot air held in the balloon, I'm either going to violently combust or gently float on. We'll see.

Applying for many a job in SF, also looking at an affordable room on 9th and Lawton by the park. I'm pretty terrified that I'll start building my life again and three months from now, when my first scans are taken, it'll all come crumbling down again. Please please please cancer don't come back.

oh, and my birthday is next week, though I don't feel much like celebrating. Can I be 23 again?

I love all of you and hope to see many of you soon.

Thursday, 14 May 2009

welp.

I am officially in remission.


ummm.


so...



yeah...



now what?

.
..
...


shit.


I'm not special anymore, am I? I'm jobless, homeless, broke, bald, and "healthy" on paper. My oncologist seems to think I'll be fit for a 40 hour work week by next month. Thanks cancer, thanks a lot.

Thanks for the "life lesson". It's been fun, really.
IT'S BEEN FUCKING HILARIOUS.

Saturday, 9 May 2009

Thursday, 7 May 2009

bloggedy blog blog, fashion, whatever.

I've been lying here sweating out a fever for the last couple of days... fever ALWAYS happens to me in the weeks subsequent to chemo. It would be nice to be able to eat something without puking so hard that my nose bleeds.

Blogs. Blogs are such an amazing phenomena, aren't they? I love this mass articulation of personal thought. Bloggers stradle both the selfish and selfless all at once. To start a blog and assume someone really wants to read about your banal life is quite selfish, and yet, those banalities might have a little seed of inspiration, entertainment, or perhaps even provoke a thought or two.

I suppose I am officially a BLOGGER, being slightly too self centered to write about other people, ie journalism, and lacking the attention span for essays and the like. I was asked to write a fashion blog for Spanish Moss Vintage, which is an awesome up-and-coming indie retailer, and I enthusiastically accepted.

The notion of starting a fashion blog came to me last year when I was trend researching for Goorin, spending 8 hours on end trolling the internets for fashion inspiration. But, I was busy with my own line. And then I got cancer. Ah, life.

So now, someone has done all the dirty work and designed a blog just for me. It's a great concept and I REALLY want to use it to promote independent talent, because I know how hard it is to market yourself as a designer.

If any fashionists out there have any suggestions on who/what I should cover, let me know. Send me an email, anything.

Check it out!

a disclaimer: I really had no say in the fact that my big huge MUG is splayed across the top of the page, haha.

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

ugly bones.

Drove to Oakland today to visit the orthopedic surgeon and discuss my options.



So, so. Here's the deal. My cancer is undetectable at this point. Surgery would give me an even better chance of survival, but I'd be debilitated for the rest of my life. The surgeon would have to take out all of this:



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(don't you love how I bust out Illustrator at 2 am?)



I'd be in the hospital for 6 days and have to walk with crutches or a walker for 6 months. I would probably permanently have a limp. Or lean, I guess, if you want to get all gangsta on me. Because I've had radiation and the bone is dead, they wouldn't be able to do reconstructive surgery. I'd be misshapen on one side.



Needless to say, I'm electing not to get surgery. eff that crap.



Whenever people ask how I'm doing the tears automatically start rolling. I don't fully understand it. I won't be thinking a sad thought. I'll be happy, I'll want to say, "I am amazing, I feel alive, I feel purified now." But I'll get a lump in my throat instead. The words stumble around in my mouth, I cry instead of crying out my post-chemo revelations.



I wonder how many years of therapy I'll need for this?



Never mind all of that, take a look at this. This makes me happy. I had it commissioned one dark and rainy night from Epicbones on Etsy. More on that later... I'm going to love this thing forever.



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Sunday, 3 May 2009

retail therapy

The lady has had a tough year.

The lady deserves the finer things in life, which is why she is buying herself the following rad ass self-birthday presents. She need not justify things further.

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whaaaaaat isn't this amazing?

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The lady would post something more meaningful, but she's pretty out of it, much like a car crash victim right after the airbags blow off. I can't feel my legs! seriously.

Friday, 1 May 2009

last chemo.



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One of the nurses brought me a balloon, which was quite touching. I did shed a tear or two.



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Now I'm lying on the living room floor intermittently puking and watching Showgirls. And slowly, sllooowwwly waiting for my hair to grow back...