Bono Is On A Journey, I Followed Him On It!

U2 in Manhattan in "Your The Best Thing About Me"

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Here are the boys from Dublin, in a great video to a great song.  It was directed by Jonas Akerlund, whose work is always interesting and I love anything by U2!  The song is "You're the Best Thing About Me" and the video is the band touring Manhattan.  The song is great, I've watched the video about a bajillion times because my PS is learning to play it.  It's clever and infectious and the video was shot in the neighborhood (Hell's Kitchen) we toured.  After seeing a show ("The Book of Mormon"), we went all over the neighborhood looking for pizza (a buck, really). The band toured  Manhattan in a double decker bus, we did too.  Writers hailed this video as a "love letter to NYC."  Maybe.  It reminds me of some of the stuff we saw (and ate) in New York.  It's happy!  That "movie" completely depicted my experience there.  The PS and I went to some of the same places as Bono and The Edge!  Cool!  But cold is cold.  Frigid temperatures stop me in my tracks.  Cold doesn't work for me.

New York was cold!

  At some point we ducked into a decent looking bar that had a menu, mostly to get out of the cold.

After thawing a little, I looked around.  Once I realized I wasn't going to get shot I noticed the ceiling tiles and the great wood flooring!  People were deep in conversation and nobody smoked.  They served coffee - I was in heaven!  And it was warm!  So, this morning we're watching the video (again) and the PS was playing when he yells, "Peanuts" style, "That's It!"

We paused, rewound and froze the video and saw we had wandered into The Blue Ruin the same bar that U2 was in! We were there! Recently!  Upon spotting that little connection the PS was happier than I'd seen him in years, you'd think he won the Nobel prize! No, we were in NYC looking for food, U2 did the same thing!  How cool is that?

Looking at our photos it occurred to me that I might have actually enjoyed myself!  Freezing, in a wheelchair, ubering all over NYC, was amazing!  Dare I say it? It was fun!  It took six years, but I finally was silly, goofy and adventurous again!  I had a little fun!  It didn't last long, I didn't expect it but amusement was briefly mine!  Is there anything Bono can't do?

Cookies $ Cancer Both Are Important - Tis' the Season!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

They're Back!

Winter tends to be dreary and long for me. I really dislike being chilly, I hate being cold.  I can't wait for Spring!  Winter and snow are not magical they're just friggin' cold!  One of the few great things that happen in Winter is ginger creations are available.  Gingerbread people, houses and my personal favorite:  Nyackers Ginger Thins.  I abstain from sugar as a rule, but I'll smash the doctor's orders for these!  That's how good they are.  You can pick them up at any World Market for 12 bucks!  Or on Amazon for $20!  These are the best ginger thins you can buy.  They break easy so they're no good for home building or any construction projects.  Nyackers are just great cookies.  They're light, fragrant and perfectly balanced.  An excellent partner to both tea and coffee.  They taste like winter!

The other good news I had this week is I met a new doctor.  His name is Dr. Ruben and he's an ophthalmologist.  The person who administered the eye tests, was named Dipti.  After an extensive eye exam, he came in and informed us that he couldn't help me, that eye surgery probably wouldn't relieve my double vision.  After suggesting I"cover one eye" (Captain Morgan?) we left.  Upon returning home my PS remarked the appointment "had been a waste of time".  I disagree.  Meeting Dr. Ruben means I met another doctor who knows cancer (and eyes).

Dr. Ruben removed one more question, I can eliminate one more idea.   I'll meet every doctor in California, if that is what it takes, and then if none has a solution, I'll go to a different insurance company and meet all their brain dudes.  I'll keep seeing providers until I meet the doctor who has my answer.  I know it's out there, somewhere, I just have to find it.

While my odyssey continues (longer than Viet Nam) I'll be in Heaven with Nyackers.

Surprises & Planning - Always Be Ready For The Next One

St. Rose's in Roseville
Stained Glass in Afternoon Sunnlight

Hello Fellow Travelers!

I am committed to factual reporting on this journey.  I would be less than diligent therefore if I failed to report the following:  I recently flew across this nation to NJ for a fantastic wedding.  I planned every item for every hour. It wasn’t just a trip it was a strategic deployment.  I checked the weather forecasts, I brought only what was absolutely required. I had packs and packs of anti-bacterial  wipes.  I had several pairs of gloves.  I was prepared!  I have to count my wheelchair as a checked bag, so I pack as little as possible. I had thought I was prepared for any imaginable possibility, but once again, I was literally and figuratively blindsided by an unforeseen event.  I was having my hair cut when my stylist customarily asked, “Are we doing your eyebrows today?”  She usually did them, I can no longer see my eyebrows and it’s cheap so I figured, “Why not?”  Since my brain surgery she had waxed my eyebrows many times.  So what happened next was a fluke, an unfortunate accident.  In an effort to have one less thing to be bothered with, one less detail to manage, I got burned!  Literally!  She burned my eyelids!  I would have laughed (it was actually pretty funny) but it really hurt!  Because I have an unusually high pain tolerance, I didn’t feel the burn until the next day! And it hurt! What really “burns” me (besides wax) is that this was an unforced error – totally self-induced, like North Korea. ( I hadn’t thought of NK in ages and now we’re all gonna die) I am at my maximum capacity for disasters of any kind.  No floods or earthquakes or a bad, facial burn (insert joke here) was nothing I needed. Proving once again that you have to be ready for anything!  And almost everything is funny!

The real tragedy waiting  for me in California was the passing of Father Mike McKeon.  The PS and I went to St. Rose’s on Thursday for Fr. Mike’s memorial.  The church was packed!  I only managed to get seated because I’m in a wheelchair.   We had seen him recently in Woodland, not looking like anything other than a man who needed some TLC and a lot of rehab.  Mike died while I was in NY.  We had planned on seeing him again.  I thought he was recovering.  I had a new stress ball (a little rubber ball for increasing hand strength) to give him.  I asked the PS to take a lot of family photos at the wedding to show him.  I adored the “sisters”(actual siblings) caring for him.  I don’t know much about God or Roseville but I do know a thing or two about brain surgery and I know A LOT about physical rehabilitation.  I felt like there was a unique opportunity for me to help.  Even if you’re confined to bed, there are things you can do. I had plans for him!  Rehab plans! Exercise is always possible.  I was therefore uncharacteristically sad leaving NJ, as Albert Brooks said in “Finding Nemo”, “Good feeling, gone.”

On the flight back to San Francisco I watched a very sad movie. Lovely! Thank You, Rooney Mara!  Again, I wasn’t looking for drama!  I was freaking bereft already!  Is it too much to ask for “A Ghost Story” to be just a stupid horror film?  But noooo, it starred Casey Affleck and was a soul-crushing tale about undying love and death.  I was riveted!  I thought a lot about Mike on the flight.  No!  Too sad.  Too soon.  Did he know what was happening? Did he feel loved? Was he scared?   Did he know how much he meant to so many?  I hope so!  My PS said he entered an overflowing St. Rose’s for his retirement like a rock star!  I believe it.  I felt that quality.  Mike gave a speech at my father-in-law’s  90^th birthday where he said someone should write about the folks who “came over” from Ireland.  He probably wasn’t addressing me, but I heard him nonetheless.

While I consider that challenge, I will continue my search for answers.  I miss Mike.

Dead Birds Or Art?

Leslie Caron in "Gigi" -Notice the feathers. Magnifique!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

This past week we went "back east" for a wedding.  The bride is a cousin of the PS.  The wedding was spectacular!  The bride was beautiful, the wedding party was adorable, the mother of the bride was resplendent in my favorite color, the food was awesome, it was, in a word., perfect and I was thrilled to be a witness to the celebration.  One very special detail for me was where we sat, or more specifically, who we sat with.  I sat at a table with a European woman in a stunning red, column dress that was beautifully fitted.  She even had a great name - Oona.  She undoubtedly had great shoes too but I don't remember.  What I couldn't stop looking at was her "hat".- a small, whimsical, confection, that complimented her hair and skin.  Oona wore this tiny chapeau at a rakish angle, cocked to one side, like an afterthought.  Very French!  Tres chic!

Other ladies rocked feathered hats which mostly looked like molting birds stuck on their heads, proving Coco Chanel's maxim, "Not everybody can wear a hat".  Or my own maxim, "Not everybody should wear a hat".  Thankfully, hats are more of an option, an accessory not a requirement.  Being incapable of leaving any seat without assistance I greatly appreciate something, a flower, a stylish watch, a great hairstyle, an interesting brooch - art.  Oona's ornament was like the bubbles in champagne - magical, fun!

After a final day of NY exploring (the entire city needs a anti-bacterial wipe) we boarded a plane for home.  I really believe that planes are death traps.   I'm extremely claustrophobic.  Airplanes are just a few seats strapped onto tons of jet fuel - could explode at any minute  Add a spider and you'd have all my phobias in one place!  So I was pleased to utilize the TV/Movie feature on the plane.  I've been watching a lot of horror films lately so I when I saw "A Ghost Story", was available, (wouldn't need close watching, sounded simple) I chose it. I thought it would be a pleasant distraction.  Like my disastrous burned eyebrow experience (don't ask) it was nothing I expected!  If I had bothered to see who was in it, I'd have known not to select it.  It starred Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara - two of the gloomiest actors in film today!  You want to know why I didn't know Mr. Affleck was even in this?  Of course you do. Affleck wore a sheet with eyeholes!  He rarely speaks and when he does it's in subtitles!  Seriously!  A sheet!  (Despite the crappy costumes the film tackled "big" questions)  It required my full attention.

A heartbreaking and a serious view of the "afterlife" .  Another view of love perhaps  Really stupid love.. Mopey actors wearing sheets and being way too serious - like burned eyelids, it was nothing I needed or wanted.  I like movies that don't say much.   Movies that you don't have to actually follow.  Movies you can start watching and instantly know where they are.

I totally "get" NYC and I understand why people live in New Jersey.  I will never understand a lovesick ghost wearing a flowered topsheet.

I Am Always Trying To Be Ready For Surprises - Even Good Ones

Long Duck Dong from "16 Candles"  -  The Donger

Hello Fellow Travelers!

One of the many devices I have absorbed into my post-astrocytoma life is replacing my wristwatch with a Fitbit.  A Fitbit still tells time but also tracks heartrate and physical activity, useful information for me.  Apparently, to reset anything in a Fitbit you have to use a dongle, seriously, that's it's technical name!  Yep.  A dongle.  It's in the owner's manual.  Actually seeing the term "dongle" in print, had me in 80's hysterics!  My PS figured out how to reset the time/date without a dongle, but the idea that "dongle" is a word for a Fitbit part still cracks me up!  Just hearing that "you need a Dongle" was hilarious!  I didn't just want a Dongle, I needed one.  To quote Molly Ringwald's annoying little brother in "16 Candles", "Classic!"  Ha-ha!

In another example of a happy surprise, the PS and I went to Woodland to visit a retired priest who had undergone some horrific surgery. And he had a stroke.  The information we had was that he was living with "sisters" in hospice care,  I know what a DNR is and I've seen people in hospice so I had an expectation of sorts:  silent nuns in wimples, lots of quiet prayer, dark lighting, maybe incense?  Maybe not.  Very somber.

The reality?  We arrived at a sunny house to a very sunny woman!  Fr. Mike was in a bed in the living room, front and center under a colorful indian blanket.  The "sisters" are not nuns they are actual sisters. Energetic sisters.  Sisters who really care about Fr. Mike's recovery, sisters with a plan.  No one in that house was ready to "go into the light". Hospice?  Nahhh. It's definitely a rescue scenario not a recovery situation - he's recovering with some friends who care about him.  I don't know much, but I know something about brain trauma and rehabilitation.  I hope I see him again, soon.  I connected with him, and I think I could help him on this part of his journey.  He's at the beginning, I already have a few exercises and rehab toys he can use.


A word about the current crop of Hollywood sex scandals, and I think I speak for most people here, "Eeeeeeuuuuuuwwwwwww!"

And that's all I have to say about that.

"He's A F@#%ing Moron" Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Scary!

A moron?  Rex Tillerson, Secretary of State said that?  And Trump isn't just any garden variety moron, he's a "f@#$ing moron". Priceless! Haha! When I'm done LMAO I'll write him a thank you note - the man has a command of the language, you have to give him that!  Succinct, direct and powerful.  There is no questioning his opinion of this guy - whether you agree with him or not. And he's still there!  Representing Trump!  Unreal!  Awkward!  I mean being on an elevator with those two must be the definition of tension.

Tillerson said it though, and though he had several chances he didn't take it back. And you can't unring that bell.  Rex Tillerson was an Exxon guy, he worked for the company famous for coating baby ducks in crude oil, but I'll always think of him as the dude that said everything that needed to be said.  How do I know?   He never denied saying it!  Which says everything.  And he's still the Secretary of State!  And, as much as I like my opinions being confirmed (I mean "Duh!", right?) I assumed this hilarious-yet-epitaphic statement ("He belongs to the ages now" Stanton at Lincoln's death vigil, Trump's headstone could read, "A F@#$ing Moron" or "The F!@#ing Moron") would result in a speedy dismissal.  Rex is still there!  On his terms!  I admire that.

I'm sure his days at the White House are numbered (at least I hope) but that assessment will be carved in marble for the ages someplace.  Moron?  Oh.  I thought he was just a jerk. Moron is different.  I'm glad Secretary Tillerson cleared that up for me.     Moron explains a lot!

What concerns me is Trump's brand of "careless cancer" - he throws dozens of destructive, dangerous verbal "grenades" out into space to see if any of them explode.  Thankfully, most of these scuds are harmlessly detonated.  With  increasing frequency however these thoughtfree comments are landing, exploding and provoking really crazy despots.  Men we weren't actively fighting.  Men who take statements literally.  Like the NK Kim Spider!

Any cancer survivor, hell any American really, is way too preoccupied by the daily grind that is living to have to waste precious time worrying about what"The Alternative Reality Show Host" has broken today?  As Jennifer-Jason Leigh said in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", "I just can't".  It's exhausting!

He is supposed to at the very least not make things worse.  We all have a new fake log on our  "bonfire-O'-Stress".  Groovy!  No thanks, Mr. Trump, I've got all I can handle juggling these chainsaws...

Disaster #40,321: Becoming Oompa Loompa Toned

 Willy Wonka With Some Oompas - Color Not Found In Nature

Hello Fellow Travelers!

I was all set to itemize several new possible catastrophes that Hurricane Harvey illustrated and then this happened:  I thought I was moisturizing but I was, in fact, using something the PS bought that was a moisturizer "with glow" which sounded like a brightener (Great!  We all want to be brighter!  Right?). I should have known there was a "Trumpesque" hue when the PS saw the "moisturizer" in my hand and advised me to "be careful with that stuff".
Ordinarily, I treat any product with a fair amount of skepticism.  I read reviews, test it, make an informed decision.  Ordinarily.  My PS's warning would have warned me off, ordinarily.  But I needed moisturizer and it was Chanel.  So now, on top of everything else, I'm stained like a yacht, the color of an 80's surfboard, or a plastic carrot.  "It can't be that bad.", you say?  Allow me to retort; "Oh, yes it can be!"

I did exercise a modicum of restraint, only moisturizing the driest appendages.  But one application was more than enough - my palms were a deep shade of tangerine. By the time I noticed the sunset stain on my fingers it was way too late, I was indelibly marked! I don't make candy and I don't know any catchy tunes that are not-so-cleverly-disguised "life lessons".  So a wheelchair career as an Oompa-Loompa stand in is probably not an option for me.  Nothing to do except grab some soap and a loofah and scrub it off!

It's another small, unexpected, preventable disaster.  Funnier than car trouble, but harder to fix.  It's humorous but like a meteor - I don't need it right now. A big disaster, a fire or flood would probably kill me.  And I know it.   I have many contingency plans for every emergency.  I'm interested in shopping  for insurance the way other females shop for shoes.  Risk is too risky, there is no such thing as luck, there are only probabilities.  Each day I wake up is a gift!  Every day is a great day! Safety is my watchword.


I'm always hungry, but I ignore it.  Pain?  Is it cancer?  No?  Then I ignore that too.  Staining myself like a redwood deck, is regrettable but ultimately unimportant.  Losing a loved one is a disaster.  Finding your home gone is a catastrophe.  Anything else is just a big cleanup project.  Those Texans know what cancer survivors know:  nothing, but people matter.  Anyone who's still alive after a Harvey or a Katrina is grateful to  be alive;  grateful their loved ones are OK, just grateful!  Because the next cataclysm is on it's way, and we don't know exactly what it will be - only that some kind of maelstrom is imminent!

Irma?  North Korea? The POTUS?  You never know where the next attack could come from!  Oompa Loompa lotion?  Nuclear Annihilation?  Giant, flying spiders -with lasers on their butts! (not likely, but you never know)  I just know it will come!  And I have to be ready...

How I "Repurposed" Two Bad Pieces of News

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Jon Snow Making a Friend (Drogon) on GOT - They Grow Up So Fast!

Two men shared their opinions on two very different situations this week.  Both opinions seemed honest, dispassionate and not ill-intended.  I have no reason to believe that either man bore me, personally, any ill will.  Nevertheless I found both opinions completely unacceptable.

The first person to surprise me and then I  forever slammed the door closed on any further discussion was The President.   I had followed his career with increasing horror since the 90's.    I saw him August 16th defending neo-Nazis and the alt-right.  I apologize to anyone reading this for calling out Donald Trump.  I have never publicly commented on anyone's politics or process - I really have no opinion.  As a rule, I loathe politics and politicians.  I am, however, an avid student of world history.  I read "The Rise and Fall of The Third Reich" when I was 12.

I've seen and read many, many biographies of Adolph Hitler and his henchmen.  I've researched the death camps.  Hitler's Reich only lasted ten years.  In that relatively short time his evil regime accomplished a lot - all bad.  Hitler's "Final Solution" killed 6 million human beings.  "Those who don't learn from history are condemned to repeat it".

Adolph Hitler and his ideas were terrible!  We discovered the cure for polio, the secret of flight, the magic of electricity, why would we go backwards and endorse an agenda based on hatred and racism?  We wouldn't, I thought but King Donald made those ridiculous comments and suddenly the news was full of idiots marching with tiki torches.  I mean what's next?  Scarlet Fever?  Scurvy?

Nazis are not just bad, they're like cancer - the worst. Condemning Nazis should have been a "gimme" - easy - like a Geico Ad - "Nazism is bad." Everybody knows that.

But Trump equivocated.  He waffled.  Trump compared the fascist skinheads to the people protesting the skinheads.  I still can't believe it!

To hear any person, let alone The President say "there were fine people on both sides" is awful.

What really got my attention was how he spoke.  Trump owned those evil words.  His petulant attitude all but screamed, "Yeah, I normalized Nazis!  What are you gonna do about it?"

Disassociating from Nazis (neo, old school, whatever) is rote, expected, duhuh.  Nazis are bad!

Referring to Nazis as "fine people" is un-American!

When Billy Bush and the Access Hollywood video became public I thought the President was spectacularly icky. Something some of us would barely tolerate, like a bad cold.  Since the infamous Charlottesville press conference, I've thought of him in an entirely different light.  That is, to say, I can ignore him no longer, he is damaging our country.

The other piece of "new" information came yesterday from my new oncologist.  Unlike Mr. Trump, my newest doctor was soft-spoken, thoughtful.  It was obvious (to me, anyway) that he was reciting a prepared speech he had delivered countless times.  What I heard (the PS heard it too) was this: "It's amazing you're alive.  If you were going to regain your abilities (walking would be good) you would have by now.  Be happy you're here at all. This is as good as you're going to get.  I don't believe in neuroplasticity."

He asked questions about my medical history and accurately referred to the dates of my brain surgeries.

The tone of his responses was discouraging - danger of recidivism from my brand of brain tumor is highest in the first 8 years, not 5.  I thought I was done with MRIs.  Nope.  Unfortunate!

Yearly MRIs, more rehab, whatever, bring it!

Because I know something.  There is no more cancer. There won't be. This fellow can MRI my noggin until the odious machine explodes, it's gone forever.

I'll never stop looking for answers, the rest of the story. Something is going to happen!  It may not be good but I have to be ready!  I can't listen to The Donald or a Dr. Death, neither know me.

I'll keep working, keep fighting I don't hear anything that's negative or hateful.  Did you see the eclipse?  Amazing!

A Tale of Alls Well That Ends Well! Or It Works So Who Cares Why?

He's Ba-ack!  Imagine red lasers shooting from his eyes or his spinnerets (butt)

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Anybody who has read this blog knows (all too well) that for some unknown reason I developed an insatiable appetite for melted sugar, toffee and caramels.  I've never understood  it, my doctors have never explained it - prior to neurosurgery I avoided desserts entirely.  As a child I always preferred salty snacks - for the last five years I've followed the philosophy of The Cookie Monster (The CM):  "C is for Cookie".  I dreamed molasses and vanilla beans, my father sent me cases of ginger snaps, bags of toffee.  My best girlfriend had French macaron delivered from Beverly Hills.  My sister-in-law made a Kahlua bundt cake that haunted my thoughts!  I lived vicariously through dessert TV Shows.  I DVRd "Cupcake Wars", "The Great British Baking Show" (The British really know their cookies!) and "Cake Wars".  I discovered the "wars" were baking competitions, not, as I had hoped bakers lobbing pastry at each other or throwing croquem bouches and chocolate sauce around.

After 40 years of perfect dental reports, I needed fillings. Blood tests showed I was pre-diabetic.  My PS immediately forbade any sugar.  And, sugar is in almost everything.  Your body converts fruit and grains into sugars.  So lowering my blood sugar is as difficult as it is necessary.   A stupid hamburger bun is full of sugar! I keep asking "Dr. Stranglove" (my PS)"what can I eat?"   Protein.  Eggs. (Yuck)  Meat (I don't eat anything with a face).

I'm not a meat person, but I'm supposed to strictly regulate my carb intake and try to eat protein.  I drink water, lots of water,  a lake of water, good old, plain, unflavored, no fizz, no ice, tap refreshment.

 I longed for anything involving gingerbread - a gingerbread "Tiny" House, a gingerbread shingle from aforementioned "Tiny" House!  A "Tiny" door, a ginger 2'x4', a ginger anything!  I pined for brown sugar.  I begged my mom for sugar free cookies.  I looked up gourmet toffee online just to see images.  I was never satisfied, I was always hungry and cranky - I felt really deprived.  Feeling bad for my plight (or just wanting me to shut the heck up!) an oncologist friend prescribed a chemical that had helped a nurse curb her cravings and he found a pharmacist who would custom make the capsules (Naltrexone) because it had to be hand  made to order.  I was grateful that the problem was solved.  One less log on the "Bonfire O' Stress". Or so I thought!

Sometime on day #3 of taking the new pills the constant pang of hunger, the all-consuming preoccupation with brown sugary confections stopped.  It's as though a switch was flipped.  I continued to take the Naltrexone and it worked - all the deprivation and ceaseless hunger ceased.  Or did they?  While I thought I was taking my daily dose of "Sugar-Be-Gone", Dr. Lecter (My PS) secretly replaced my prescription with capsules from a health food store.  Dr. Bombay (The PS again) ("Emergency!   Emergency!  Come right away!") was skeptical about the effects of Naltrexone and was proving a point testing the "placebo effect";by giving me Chinese sawdust (or something) in capsules

What Dean Wormer (AKA, my spouse) proved ("I had you on double secret probation!") I already knew - like every other substance, material good, or liquid on the planet, I am strong enough to eliminate anything that's in my way.  Hunger doesn't matter.  Pain just means something needs fixing.  Dr. Feelgood(my beloved) can feed me any story, any pill he likes - we both have the same objective:  health.  So we're both right!  Dr. Strangelove (my reason for breathing) went to great lengths to prove the strength of the "placebo effect".  Whatever.  No medication?  I am strong? Big deal.  I already knew that! So score for one for me!  I never feel deprived anymore and I still don't need any medication.  Winner, winner!  Vegetarian/Protein Dinner!

Now I can focus on what's important like where to get a really big shoe...

"President Buckethead"? Funny!

Bow to Lord Buckethead!  John Oliver brought this "Outer Space Candidate" across the pond to introduce to the US and he's hysterical!
Can we borrow him?

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Never let it be said that I don't have a highly developed, all-encompassing, sometimes twisted, sense of humor.  I love, love, love to laugh!  I rarely smile but I crack up daily!  Funny has been my salvation, my refuge, sometimes the only coping mechanism at hand to deal with the pain and insanity that assaults me every waking moment.

Whether it's cancer or national elections, laughing is essential because sometimes it's all you have.  As with anything else I ingest, I am highly selective about my humor - I know truly, blow-milk-through-your-nose, hilarious when I see it - and I saw it on "Last Week, With  John Oliver".  As Oliver (an American Brit) commented, "When done right, British politics are fun!"

The leather-clad "Lord Buckethead" was a real candidate; visually disturbing, arch, dripping with sarcasm and silliness.  His remarks were delivered with a superior (if slightly muffled) British accent!  You really need a British accent for effective sarcasm.  Who else but a Brit (wearing a cape and a bucket) could say, "Brexit will be a sh__show!" at an event with the PM and sound so snotty?

I love Monty Python.  The TV show and the movies.  I grew up with Python and "Absolutely Fabulous".  Snarkiness is my favorite kind of humor - I adore a good snarkfest.  Like a great biscuit, the British are still a dependable source of superior snark and set the standard for ridiculousness. ("Ministry of Silly Walks" is a favorite.) When I saw The "Dark Lord" sharing a stage with the British PM, I LMA off!  It was like something from a VISA ad, "priceless".

Who's under the bucket?  It's like why did I have a brain tumor?   Who knows?  Who cares?  Mysterious works in the humor scenario.  I don't care where it comes from!  I like the pulsating blue light where the eyes might be, the metal circle (?) for a mouth, in a bucket!  I don't need to know who he is!  Seeing under the hood (or the bucket) would be like finding out your dad was pretending to be Santa or there is no Easter Bunny - just plain disappointing.  And who needs that?  I don't want to know the alien running for Parliament is, in fact, just a dude wearing a 2' bucket!  I don't need to know that.

I look for snide, snarky, slightly sideways humor everywhere, and with the internet, I can search worldwide for something really funny.

Or I can easily click on something kind of funny but mostly cute - like a kitten spinning on a Roomba.  Always watchable!  The Internet rarely disappoints which is good because that's the tone of the world - disappointing, at best.  At worst?  It's downright scary!  One thing you can do is laugh.  It probably won't change anything but you might feel better!

Nothing and No One Are Safe - You Need "Plan B"

Two Animals That Need Squishing In The Worst Way!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Imagine red lasers!  Pretty scary?  No?  Well I'm still working  on it!  It would take a very large shoe (boot size??) to liquify this bad boy!

Unstable dictators and chubby arachnids.  Add radiation and I think we may have a supervillain!  Still no?  I'll give it to the Effects Dept. (Patient Spouse) to work on.  Just seeing it makes me want to grab some bug spray!  Euuuuuuwwww! (how's that for "a command of the language"?)  I think it could work.

It's begging for a good "shoe-ing" anyway!  Ha ha!

So it's not the cure for cancer, but I'm not thinking incessantly about cookies anymore and that's a good thing, right?  You have to start someplace...

The world gets scarier by the hour.  Everyone has to be prepared for anything because anything can happen!  And, if I've learned anything from this journey, it will not be good!   No puppies or cookies or free Wi-Fi in the forecast!

I used to think the future would take care of itself and earth was a relatively safe environment.  Now I know "Winter Is Coming" and I'm very, very, "risk-averse".  I'm not paranoid, I'm just extremely vigilant!  OK, maybe I'm a smidge over-cautious, can you blame me?

I am focusing less on art and feng shui and more on defense strategies.  I've always been anti-gun but I've become interested in other weapons.  Crossbows (HBO's "Game of Thrones") caught my attention recently.  My increasing dislike for all objects and desire for clearer spaces I attributed to minimalism and a new appreciation for a cleaner (barer, manageable) environment were inspired (I thought) by my admiration of Asian decor.  Everything I find appealing is based in nature.

 CNN is on.  A lot!  I see a terror attack on TV and I go to the gym.  I have to find neuroplasticity before the other shoe drops, before another disaster happens.   Is my newer, Spartan aesthetic based in fear?  Fear that I don't acknowledge?  Because that would suck!  I wouldn't be a brave trailblazer, I'd just be another complainer with a laptop.  Am I a tenacious, determined brain cancer survivor or Chicken Little, afraid of the sky falling?

The sky might fall!  Today, in fact. It's a distinct possibility.  And I have to be ready!  I have Plan B (and Plans C,D & E).  I'm not afraid of anything, if I'm overly cautious it's based on reason and weighing risk.  I think about everything now and avoid every danger I can.  I'm not chicken, I'm careful!  I don't buy clothes - I buy insurance.

I believe wielding a crossbow or practicing a home fire drill demonstrates prudence and foresight.

 Because you never know when a giant "Kim-Spider" will attack!

A New Super Villain! Name-TBD-What Do You Think? Pretty Fun, No?

What I Think Of Now That I'm No Longer Focused On Cookies -

Hello Fellow Travelers!

You have to use a little imagination (OK, a lot!), but picture Kim Jong Un's head on this body.  Pretty scary?  Add a mools giswin (Korean Water Ghost) from "The Ring" and it could be a pretty frightening, no?  And radioactive lasers - that it shoots out of it's eyes!  Or it's spinnerets (butt), I haven't decided which yet.

My PS was supposed to attach the strongman's crazy head to this corpulent (yet remarkably speedy) body, but he says we don't have the right software.  Whatever.  My objective is to stick the dictator's head on the chubby (but FAST!) arachnid's body.  I don't think that's asking a lot. But nooooo!  He's "busy".   Fine.  I'll just do it myself, it's not an ILM project, right?  I mean it's just basic cutting and pasting, right?  Crude but effective.   How hard can it be?  Well, turns out C&P doesn't really work after all and I need to have a F/X expert (my PS) realize my vision and we'll have to get some new software.  Whatever.  I just want to adhere a crazy despot's head (Kim Jong Un) on a chubby black arachnid.

Once it's "on paper" I'll fine tune it, make it a ghost that can crawl out of your TV.  Then I'll give it even more powers, I'll "Super" it.  A really big boot couldn't crush this monster!

It occurred to me that as the real world becomes increasingly frightening, supervillains are less so.  This mutant is scary but safe.  That crazy dude terrorizing the planet?  He's a real danger!  It will take a real hero to vanquish that monster.  Do we have one?

PS - My favorite CNN intrepid reporter, brave (or REALLY dumb) Will Ripley, the only western reporter allowed in North Korea is filing daily reports from Pyongyang!

One More Scary Thing I Can't Worry About...

Hello Fellow Travelers!

A Perfectly Normal Reaction to Finding a Monster Arachnid

I've finally reached a physical goal, made an important mental discovery, I was all set to write about them in detail, then this happened:  I went to Facebook and a cousin of my PS was awake all night because a large spider was alive, in her house, somewhere in the darkness, plotting (because that's what they do). 

The only acceptable spider is a dead one as far as I'm concerned.  I'm currently unable to smack them with my usual force and previous accuracy so on the rare occasion I encounter an "eight-legged freak" I have to weigh the risk of a killed (success!) beast against a missed swing resulting in a mark on the wall and a possible spider escape, where it will undoubtedly plot to attack (Unacceptable Failure!)  I've really thought about this.  I usually ask an accurate shoe-marksman to do the "hit" for me now.  I never take my eyes off of it until I verify it is, in fact, deceased.

Reagan said "Trust, but verify", well that applies here as well.  "Spray/smack/bash (or all three) and then look at the corpse to make sure the wily spidey is, in fact, eight legs up."  That's like a Geico Ad:  "Everybody knows that"

Since I try to be prepared for anything, I've adapted my environment to provide insects (and worse) no safe haven, no dark corner to hide in, no food source.  Real holiday trees house bugs, the PS wanted an artificial tree - done! Same thing with woodpiles - spidey condos.  Duraflames work just fine! Webs?  I find the spinner and ask my PS to dispatch it.  Then I always check out the dead spider to make sure that it is.

My PS thinks my "Kill All Spiders On Sight" policy is pretty funny, even endearing.  I have no emotions I just know that a sparsely furnished, clean, controlled environment does not attract dirt, dust, insects or spiders.

I cannot clean, cook or defend myself against arachnids.  What I can do is not provide any incentive/environment for Charlotte to spin her stupid web in.  "Charlotte's Web" was the first book I read but it would have been really short if I had written it.  "Fern spotted a large, grey, spider in the corner of the barn.  She squashed it with her saddle shoe.  Fern then checked the heel to make sure it was dead.  The End."

A loose, living, large spider at night is a sleep preventer.  The only worse thing I can imagine is being trapped with one in an MRI machine. (Shudder!!!)

The writer in me has to know - what happened next?

I've never said this before but Facebook, here I come!

P.S. - Will Ripley (The only Western reporter allowed in N. Korea) is filing reports on CNN again!

No More Sugar On The Brain - I Moved Onto CNN!

CNN's Intrepid Reporter - Alone in North Korea

  Hello Fellow Travelers!         My doctor prescribed a medication that is 100% effective.  I spent tremendous amounts of time and energy thinking about all kinds of desserts.  I had never liked sweets of any kind but after 2011 sugar became my all-consuming passion.  It's all I thought about.       I saw an ad for Contrave and asked about any medication that might reduce my Jonesing for sugar.  A doctor prescribed Naltrexone and immediately I had my usual disdain for all things with sucrose.  I now have time to fret over the fate of Will Ripley.  Who's Will Ripley you ask?  He's the only Western correspondent allowed in North Korea.  CNN has brave Will broadcast every day from inside North Korea.  Every day I watch CNN to see whether or not Will is reporting to Wolf Blitzer about how crazy Kim Jong Un may be,

I breathe a gasp of relief every day he reports - it's one more day he hasn't been snatched off the street and arbitrarily sentenced to years of prison and hard labor.

Is it me?  Or is this guy in real danger?    

No one knows what North Korea will do!  That guy is truly nuts!  Poor Will!

I feel I'm alone in my fear for Will.  How long does he have to stay there?  Does he get hazard pay?  Has he met Kim Jong Un?  How on earth does he sleep?  Is every day like the end of "Argo"?

The saddest part of this tragedy-waiting-to-happen, is there's nothing I could do about it if he did get shoved into a van.  Have you seen this kid?  He's America personified.  Poor Will looks like Buster Posey!

I know I'm "risk averse" but reporting from "The Evil Empire" seems akin to teasing a rabid bear!

Why Will, why?  Kim is Batsh#t crazy!  Everyone knows this!

Don't play with the rabid bear! It's CNN?  Who cares?  Report from someplace else.  Anywhere else!  What did the robot say on "Lost In Space"?  "Danger! Will, Danger!"


He should get the heck out of Dodge, like now.

Until he does, I'll be watching, praying he's still the only Westerner allowed in North Korea.

What?  You thought I was going to write about cookies?

A Disability I Miscalculated - No Speech - "Silence is NOT Golden!" - It's Mysterious and a Real Pain!

GOT's Sir Gregor Pigayne - "Vow of Silence" or "Who Cares if He's Mute?"
It only makes him scarier!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

One of the more confusing conditions I've been dealing with (or not dealing with) is my progressively diminished ability to speak.  After the tumor was removed my speech slowly began to deteriorate.  Now, only the PS is able to understand me. I have no idea what happened.  But at the time I wasn't too worried, I mean how bad could it be?  As it turns out, pretty bad!  In my grand scheme of disabilities I thought being "speechless" was definitely a minor one.  Collateral damage, worry about it later.  Who needs to hear me, anyone?  I would just "shut the hell up!"  Tons of comic potential!  Mysterious!  Noble,even.  As per usual, I was wrong! 

Did Sir Gregor ever  need to confirm an appointment or need to call his parents?  Didn't think so!  He was too busy ripping someone's head off or torturing some other unfortunate!  Even the most silent of us have to occasionally pick up a phone!

About the hundredth time I couldn't respond with my usual snarky quip to something truly moronic, I determined this "silence" business was for the birds!  And birds make all kinds of sounds!  Birds, in fact, never shut up!

I can't be bothered by ordinary challenges such as driving or grocery shopping.  But I draw the line (well, I think about drawing lines) when I require another human being to answer in the negative or affirmative because I remain unable to make the corresponding noise.

I reconfigured my priorities to include Speech Therapy, and my journey continues...

Caramels and Kahlua Cake - Now I Can Ignore Both!

Hello Fellow Travelers

The Picture I Didn't Believe - Martha!  Say it ain't so!
Look at what they're holding - Melania Actually Looks Happy!

Made you look!  These titans of industry, these pioneers of personal branding are making my very least favorite American concoction - meat loaf.  Need I say more?  Because I will if I have to.  OK, twist my arm, yuk!  I'm talking American meat loaf: raw hamburger + a bunch of mystery junk.   Mixed and shaped into a rectangle, stuffed into a loaf pan baked at 350 degrees until way done.  I have no interest in a loaf of ground meat.  Any food that requires ketchup (lots) to actually improve it isn't anything I need.  Save all comments about how great yours is, it's not, your family is just trying not to hurt your feelings.  All the panko crumbs, fresh herbs and other ground meats in the world aren't going to make it edible, let alone "sandwich-worthy."   Loaves are bread, possibly pound cake, meat and loaf just don't belong together.  It makes sense that it gained popularity after WWII, people were in their new houses, in the 'burbs, into their ovens, into counting pennies, but now?  Retro Food?  Um, war time food, maybe.  There are far too many wonderful things in the world to sample to waste calories on brown ground beef bricks.

There, rough, I know, but it had to be said.

But what I'm very happy about this week is my latest adventure in "Better Living Through Chemistry".   As anyone who has read this blog has probably observed (because I've complained frequently and bitterly)is that I'm obsessed with caramels and cookies.  I dream about cinnamon and Kahlua cake, go to cookie websites.  I went to  Legal Zoom.com just to look at the gourmet toffee.  My best friend sent me French Macaroons, and my father at one point was having ginger snaps sent to me by the case.

I was diagnosed pre-diabetic two years ago, so my PS eliminated sugar from my diet.  I'm good with 86ing sugar, but it's hard to avoid - sugar is in almost everything!

Fruit, salad, any bun.  And forget about actual desserts!

Was my obsession with quality baked goods a cancer thing?  A post surgery thing?  Who knows or cares?  All I know was that this new proclivity to look at dessert menus came at the worst possible time.  It had to go, I have enough to deal with.

This "Sugar Jonz" was entirely new.  I always disliked sweets.  I was a salty/sour snacker.

Nevertheless, I added sucrose to the long list "of things I'll never have again" and though I replaced sugar with Stevia, I was feeling very deprived.  Painfully gypped!

A friend of mine,(possibly to shut me up) whose a researcher, prescribed a small, daily dose of something called Naltrexone.  Since starting this medication four days ago (once daily) my obsession with vanilla beans and caramels is gone!  I researched Naltrexone and found out it was safe, an anti-opioid and patients reported no side effects.  I'm journaling my daily experience with Naltrexone, but I'm here to tell you, if early indications are correct, this is a big log off my "bonfire o' stress".  I'm still hungry but I no longer feel deprived or crave anything.

I'm losing weight at a rapid pace.

It's another obstacle that's been neutralized.  One less distraction.  It works. 

A Cautionary Tale: Do NOT Do This! Ever!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Remember Boris & Natasha?  Now they were spies!

Since the advent of the laptop, I have heard terrible tales of theft and ruin. I spend a lot of time on my laptop.  There are basic rules of cyber safety with one rule being paramount:  Never, ever, click on a link from a stranger or someone claiming to be a family member.  I inadvertently violated this cardinal rule, and while no harm was done, I feel slimed, like I need  a new laptop, and I have a new laptop.  This one!

I received an unexpected message from my younger niece inviting me to watch a video.  My niece lives in another state and I rarely see her.  I was, therefore, thrilled to hear from her!  It was a perfect set-up.  I was a discerning (so I thought) writer, word processor, who would, never, ever, fall for anything as lame as a hack/scam!  Yet I bit, hook, line and sinker.  And tackle box.

Believing the sender to be my beloved niece, I thought she was sending me some information.  I blithely clicked on a link and watched a 20 minute infomercial by Montel Williams expounding to Dr. Oz about the miraculous benefits of safflower oil!  And it did look miraculous and there were benefits!  Boring but worthwhile.  It did, however, raise some questions:  Did it work?  Was my niece telling me something?

I wrote my niece a note and promptly moved on.  Until my PS started sleuthing.  His spidey-senses began to tingle when I told him my niece had sent me an email.  She only uses Facebook.  "Ruh-roh...."  My PS then looked more closely at the address: IN RUSSIAN, FROM RUSSIA!  

I'd been hacked?  By Russians?  Like in that spy show, "The Americans"?   Maybe.  Cool.

My PS started screaming when he saw the Russian address.  I suddenly felt a little less like Sean Connery and a little more like any clueless American in any number of books and movies.  My new laptop was compromised, polluted, slimed!

The screaming went down to yelling when further analysis revealed that no money had been pilfered, and nothing untoward happened.

But it easily could have.  My point is even if you're quick, computer-trained, scam savvy, it could happen to you, it isn't cancer but it can be costly.  And icky!

Seriously, brand new and I wanted the laptop gone.  I went back to using my other one.

I started receiving  messages in cartoon Russian, calling me an "Amerikan Woman" and the mysterious thieves were "having fun using my identity to spend money and open other accounts".   I quickly discovered my Russian cyber-bully was my PS  (he's a fan of "The Americans" on FX) and that's what passes for humor with him!  (It was pretty funny, I have to admit!)

When I stopped using this computer he confessed to "being Boris" (Badenov, Yeltsen, Some Russian).

So watch out!  We're all alone on this journey and there is no shortage of forces conspiring to do/say anything for money!

Money, and everything it buys is transient, impermanent.  If you know or hear of someone who was taken for a few $$ be thankful nobody was hurt.  If I've learned anything that's the only thing that really matters - being alive.  No one hurt?    Bonus!

I've Seen Death and It's Not "The Blair Witch"

The AHS Haunted House - Chock Full of Witches and Demons, but so stylish!  Great Bones!  Such a shame...

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Being impaired and possessing limited mobility has forced me to develop new sources of services I didn't need until 2011.

I found the perfect macaron (Louis), the best pearl restringers (The Pearl Girls), and a local merchant that restores oil paintings.
.
I also watch too much TV. Far too much. There, I said it.  I usually have it on when I work out.  Since there is no end of exercises and miles to pedal to nowhere I have the stupid TV on a lot!!

We have a huge, wall-mounted TV with lots of channels, and we're sports fans (can't wait for Giants' baseball) so I'm always looking for something to ignore.

Which leads me to movies.  I always watched them and had a ready comment to put forth.  Now, armed with gym equipment and thins (Nyackers) I've used our XFinity equipment ceaselessly!  I will achieve neuroplasticity and have Frontline on while I do it!

One of the many interests I have cultivated recently is my knowledge of horror films.  It's really rare to find anything truly frightening - most horror films are gory and just plain bad.  But every once in awhile something comes out that for whatever reason scares the  bejeezus out of me!  "The Blair Witch Project" was such a film, I saw it in the theater and it scared me silly.

As a general rule I avoid sequels - they are lame to begin with and in the horror genre notoriously weak.  Accordingly, I skipped "BWII", "BWIII" and "The Curse of the Blair Witch". But when the "Blair Witch" became available on our cable service I was game!  The trailer showed the latest group of doomed idiots running around the witch's house!  The haunted house!  Oowee!  I couldn't wait!  Even though my PS predicted it wouldn't have the same impact as the first he ordered it last week.  And guess what?   It sucked!

Laughable.  Not scary at all.  And the acting?  The "performers" reached a new low, even for the horror genre.  I was cruelly disappointed!

The "film" had all the same gimmicks of the original (herky jerky photography, dangling stick figures, kids getting hopelessly lost in the woods,) but it all felt forced and fell flat.

Then it occurred to me - I saw death - maybe I don't get scared anymore by anything on film or imaginary.  Death has passed me more than once.  Every day I wake up it's the beginning of a  great day!

"The Blair Witch" still bites, but you knew that.

I am looking forward to "Rings", Japanese horror.  Mool Giswin - water ghosts.....

Is 2016 Finally Over Yet? Where Can I Buy Insurance For 2017? Another Example of You Can Never Be Too Ready!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

My Future Chair - No Handles and it doesn't scream, "Help Me!"

I was ready to reflect on 2016 ("man buns"?  WTH?  George Michael dropping dead!  (double WTH?) and then this happened:  I went to a celebration of a loved one, by all accounts a great man!  Accordingly, I planned for everything, every five hour increment.  The party was a resounding success!  Toasts were made, music was played!  I didn't knock anything over, I listened to hilarious childhood recollections of my tablemates.  Because my universe is always spinning, I kept my liquids to water (no spillage), no cake (:( ), no chocolate risk.

I gazed adoringly as my PS and son harmonized and played their guitars.  Three generations of O'Reillys - very special.  Visitors visited, no blood or tears were shed, all attendees seemed to be having a nice time.  People connected.   But, as the "man of the hour" once told me, "Nobody gets out of here alive!"  I thought I planned for any contingency.  Shoes?  Covered.  Global-thermal-nuclear-war?  Covered.

What I didn't plan for was the uneven stone floor of The Irish Cultural Center in San Francisco!

We were leaving - a great time was had by all and I was not responsible for any mishaps.  Until I wheeled out the door and got stuck on the ancient stones...

As I was making a valiant effort to escape the gridlock I had wheeled into (sort of like the dinosaurs that got stuck in the La Brea Tarpits), I felt a pair of hands giving me a considerable push out of the rock quarry/floor.

A stranger, rendering assistance, it was so generous, so Irish, so, well, human!

So how did I repay this act of genuine kindness?  How did I respond to this unselfish act of generosity?  I'll tell you! By smashing that kind woman's plastic clamshell of leftovers on the stony floor!  Where it exploded!

I mean bits of salmon flew everywhere!  When I make a mess, I don't play, I make certain every possible surface is covered!  I'm very thorough!

At the very moment of salmon-to-stone impact, my beautiful sister-in-law, Francesca, floated over on a diamond/Bulgari cloud and offered my angelic warrior her clamshell of tiramisu (which was politely declined).

It was an epic mess!

My unexpected benefactress could not have been more gracious, as though losing her lunch (literally) happened every day!

It was mortifying!  And funny!

My kind of party!

Something I never expected!  It just goes to show:  You Always Need to be Vigilant!

Did I repeat the mistake of the mythical Icarus?  Did I try to fly too close to the sun?

Naaaah!