Memoir Memories

Yesterday I had a very busy day of running around to various appointments that I hadn't gone to while I was dealing with The Cancer. It was finally time for the dentist, the optometrist and the therapist. I'm still trying to squeeze in the massage and the mani/pedi appointments, but the practical side of me took over and insisted on those other things first (and of course, when I started arguing with the practical me it became obvious how much the therapy appointment was needed and just like that practical me won. It was just sad. And practical me just said "Duh.")


I did have a little time to kill between appointments (okay and after they were all done) so after buying some practical, basic black pants that can be worn with flat shoes (and not look like the proverbial flood was chasing me) I found myself in Borders. I ambled by a section--you know, maybe one bookcase full--that had memoirs displayed. I stopped and perused to see if memoirs were still hot, what was out, and well, just to peruse. I've been reading memoirs lately as I contemplate (and type) my own little dog cancer/ breast cancer/ everyone survives story. I looked, and I picked up a few, and I turned the corner and there were more. And then more, and then more. Really, a whole large section of them! My first thought was "Holy Capitalism! Memoirs are totally hot! Everybody loves them!" followed swiftly by, "yikes, even were I shockingly able to finish mine, by the time I even started approaching agents the inevitable backlash against memoirs will have occurred (think "chick lit"--although the backlash was not fatal; not at all)."

Then I looked more closely...the section I was standing in was actually labeled "Memoir and Biography." What caused me to look up and notice that was that Senator Ted Kennedy's book "True Compass" was there.  I don't know. Can a 532 page book that spans a lifetime really be a "memoir"? Mark the moment I noticed that the word "autobiograpy" has left the lexicon of publishing. So, okay, they'll mix autobiography (generally, a life story written by someone who you had heard of before you rambled into Borders and picked up his/her book) and memoir (generally, a shorter book of a life experience or theme or moment or unique something or other by someone with an interesting voice, story, or relative in publishing). Okay, publishing no longer wants to decide between those things, or shoppers eyes glaze over at "autobiograpy." Okay. But, um....biography too? My brain was having trouble with this. Biographies are usually studied, researched, academic-like tomes written by superreallysmartliterate people. Professors and stuff. It seemed incongruous they'd be sharing shelf space with diseaseoftheweek/southernfamily/ funnyaddiction/ fatskinnybodyissue stories written by...well, anyone and everyone pretty much.


And then as though to demonstrate my point, straight in front of me was Valerie Bertinelli's "Finding It" right next to..."American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House." Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a Valerie Bertinelli fan (loved One Day at a Time in its day), but these do not seem like the same type of book. Is anybody going to find themselves in that section deciding between these books? No, no they aren't. (Are they??).  So I decided the good news is, we can all now still pretend to have very highbrow reading taste while snooping around in books like
Leaving Dirty Jersey: A Crystal Meth Memoir (by James Salant).

Other things I noted in the Memoir & Biography section: the book about Dana and Christopher Reeve has on the cover a very unattractive photo of them and yet they were both very beautiful people. Ditto for Patrick Swayze and his wife Lisa Niemi (is their book memoir or biography? Discuss amongst yourselves). And yet, Mackenzie Phillips who is, well, let's just say, no Valerie Bertinelli,  has an absolutely gorgeous book cover. Which, you know, should be the case for a book called "High on Arrival."

But the most inspirational discovery was finding that a woman who is likely only in her early 40's already had 4 memoirs out!! 4! That's like 800 pages on her life. And no, you don't know who she is...but her name is Jen Lancaster and she wrote Bitter is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Ego-maniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry a Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office; Pretty in Plaid, A Life, A Witch and A Wardrobe, Or, the Wonder Years before the Condescending, Ego-maniacal, Self-Centered Smartass Phase; Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover if her Life Makes her Ass Look Big Or, Why Pie is not the Answerl; and, Bright Lights, Big Ass: A Self-Indulgent Surly Ex-Sorority Girl's Guide to Why it Often Sucks in the City, Or, Who are these Idiots and Why do they All Live Next Door to Me.  No, I didn't make up any part of those titles, and yes, those are only 4 books.

So, after my little research foray yesterday, I think I will just  keep plodding along on my little "My dog and I both survived cancer" book, Or, "How a Surly, Narcissistic, Condescending Beagle with Cancer on his Ass, helped a Bitter, Sarcastic, Big Ass girl get through Cancer in her Boob."  It's like a biography, only not. At all. 

If This Were Any Other Dog...

I've had my first post-cancer "If this were any other dog..."  experience. And once I again, I can thank Seamus for leading the way. See, after Seamus was all done with his cancer treatments and we moved into the every month, then every three months, then six months follow-ups, we began to notice a pattern. If anything was wrong with Seamus--if he was tired, if he threw up, if there was a fatty bump appearing, I'd rush him to the vets office and they would inevitably say, "Well if this were any other dog we'd tell you it was simple x or uncomplicated heressomeantibiotics y, or it's nothing but z. But with everything he's been through we should really check for superbadawfulthing that nobody wants happening to their dog." And hundreds of dollars and sheer panic later, we'd find out it was supersimplenobigdeal x. Eventually, I decided (probably two years into this; I'm not a fast learner) that as Seamus had already lived two years longer than anyone had expected (and that's 14 years to you and I) we could probably now treat  him like any other dog...let's rule out the small stuff first and then if need be we'll look into the C word and it's possible recurrence. Life got a lot easier and less expensive. Of course, this is Seamus so I've still had to rush him to the vet for things like, oh, knocking down and inhaling a bowl of dried fruits and nuts that included macadamia nuts (very dangerous to dogs). They gave him medication and up it all came (Dr. Davis assures me there were dried cranberries in the mix; thanks for sharing). Folks in my office (where it occurred) marveled that I knew to take him to the vet for that. When you have a beagle, especially a beagle like Seamus, you know these things. A beagle will eat anything. It's my job to know what will harm him. But at least I've learned it's just "any other beagle" stuff and not a recurrence of cancer.

My own "any other dog" experience happened last night. I go for my first three month check-up on the 28th. I've heard that this can be, much like the first post-treatment mammogram, a stressful time as it brings back memories of the disease and the treatment just about the time one has started to get back to normal. Plus, there is that constant "It might recur" feeling until one hits the magic 5 year mark (and I imagine, even after that). I wasn't really thinking about it or concerned at all. Until Sunday night.

I wasn't feeling good. I was really, really thirsty and having to um, well, uh...pee all the time. Then, I got a killer backache. By yesterday, I also had the chills--which were highly reminiscent of my white blood cell crash experience which Chris described in such glorious detail here. When I took my temperature it was 102. Not good. I got online to look up my symptoms at Web MD. And I should add here, I've never done that before in my life. I either tough it out or call my dad. But I was a little nervous because I felt a lot like I did the morning of the crash. Web MD was pretty good--I either had bladder or kidney cancer, or a bladder or urinary tract infection. WTF?? Then it also had a warning about getting medical attention immediately if the person was x,y, z or had a compromised immune system such as a person in chemotherapy. Um, okay, I'm going to start with the lesser of these choices. I'm going to pretend I am any other dog and rule out the easier one first. I had a compromised immune system (during chemo) but I don't any longer. Do I? I drank lots of cranberry juice, slept like there was no tomorrow, stayed home from work today and got antibiotics. I'm feeling a lot better. I am, I think, just any other dog. With a bladder infection.

Hair and There

 Stylelist.com  thinks I'm totally cool this fall:

Actresses Mia Farrow and Audrey Hepburn and model Twiggy popularized the pixie cut back in the 1950s and 1960s -- helping to transform society's perception of beauty.

"No matter the decade, short hair on woman suggests an air of rebellion, liberation and freedom," said Tran. "The pixie can be traced as far back as Joan of Arc. While showing strength and courage, it highlights a woman's feminine features."

And Melville points out that the hair style is like anything else that's in fashion. "Everything comes back in time," he said. "We've done it all before but we do it again with a twist."

Oooh. I like that, "rebellion, liberation and freedom." So I suppose I could look at this as my rebellion from the same California blonde look I've had my whole life, a liberation from combs, brushes and blow dryers and freedom from...well, er...cancer.  Okay, not bad. I can probably think that way. Most days. Or I can just remember what Spicey Matt recently said about a picture of me on facebook: "Now that your coif is not swallowing your head, we can see your gorgeous face." (Yeah, I know!! Even he called it a back-handed compliment.)  But okay, point taken. And um, face still stinging. (I still kind of miss my 80's hair. But then Matt would be the same guy who once said to me at a cocktail party where I'd dressed up and done my hair differently, "You're hair looks gorgeous, I couldn't even recognize you!" Apparently he's always hated my hair.)

I won't lie, I bought this issue of Vogue solely because I now aspire to Michelle Williams' hair do on the cover. I probably won't see that until next spring, but still, I'm inspired. (And I'm pretty sure, with those dark roots of hers, I can get to this color as well. Or, um, my stylist Kelly can get us to that color.) That's kind of a cute spring look don't you think? Note also it's the October issue so of course there is the "Mammography update" in the left corner. Thank goodness Vogue didn't stick a pink bow in Michelle's hair. I would have been too busy controlling my gag reflex and totally over looked her adorable hair.

So okay, I can deal with this. I'll have a cool pixie hair do of rebellion, liberation and freedom. And the world will just have to adjust to a five foot ten inch pixie.

Brunch for Breast (cancer awareness)

The Brunch for Breasts fundraiser for The Pink Ribbon Place was a huge success!! About 70 people were served spectacular brunch dishes by Chef Clements and his amazing Omakase staff from 9a.m. to 2pm on Sunday. Over $1,400 was raised for the breast cancer resource center. And I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one drinking those "Cure" Royales and Mamm-osas! Finally, I get my "drink for a cause" event. We knew I'd sneak that in there somehow.

Sunday was a busy day all in all. Chris and I were troopers and spent from 9:30 to 2pm at the brunch, dining with several different folks including my dad and step-mom (Jim and Nancy McElhannon), then the good and great and also cute Dr. Amer Karam (who almost got the long distance travel award by coming from Westwood, but then a breast cancer survivor showed up from Lancaster--her niece works at Omakase-- and tore the award from his precious and skilled hands; luckily this was only metaphorically), the lovely Sheena Meder and her friend Vanessa, and Chris's mom Trudi Kern (a 17 year survivor). 

Post-brunch I worked with  videographer Rees Evans (a friend of committee member and BC survivor Meredyth Meredith --yes, that's really her name) to start capturing our "survivors" for a film he's putting together. We were able to film 7 survivors out "living life" (which meant walking, shopping, running, playing tennis, golfing, playing with her daughter and playing with her dog....guess which one I was?) and then turning to the camera to say "17 years" or, however long they'd been kickin' cancer's butt. I was floored to meet a totally adorable, cute, fashionable smiling young woman who turned out to be a survivor reporting in for her filming. She's 28 and was diagnosed at age 25. And she was the one filmed out running--because she's a marathon runner. Wow. So impressive. And yeah, this disease touches everyone. The film is meant to be a message of hope to women facing the diagnosis themselves. It will also be the lead-in (no idea if that's the technical term) for the video of the "professionals panel" were putting together on November 9th. Doctors from each of the areas one encounters in BC treatment (surgeon, anesthesiologist, oncologist, radiation oncologist, plastic surgeon for reconstruction) will be present to discuss their role, give practical coping advice and answer questions the live audience may have. The video will become part of The Pink Ribbon Place's library as a resource. It's looking like it will all work out great. With any luck we'll be able to give at least a little support, reassurance and hope to others dealing with a breast cancer diagnosis.

And I am pleased to report I have walked Seamus 7 out of the last 8 days. Woo. Hoo. It's not a marathon we're walking but hey, at least I'm up and moving. I'm less pleased to report that I'm now pulling on my hair trying to make it actually grow. Okay, not quite...but I'm thinking about it. And according to Facebook, I only have about 12 months of hair growing before my 30th high school reunion will be here. Umm...fat and shorn? No, no, I don't think so. (Did I say 30th?? I meant 20th. I'm sure that's what I meant....)

PS the photos are not from the actual brunch; Brein's food looks (and tastes) even more amazing than that. I was too busy to remember to take photos at the brunch! Next time..

I'm Traveling!

Okay, not so much me--I'm actually home enjoying a full 36 hours with no obligations whatsoever (whatever will I do???). But my words have traveled. I'm the "guest blogger" over at Bah! to Cancer while Stephanie vacations in Provence. Lucky, lucky woman. Guest blogger is a lot like guest star, don't you think? No, really. It must be. So check me out (and the rest of Stephanie's blog): Bah!to Cancer!  
And then leave a comment--preferably one about how much you enjoyed my guest blog. Wait, never mind, it's not like it's a paying gig! Okay then, give Stephanie props for kickin' cancer's butt too.

Have a great weekend. My coffee is ready, my book is selected, and the computer is all warmed up for more of my writing frenzy.  I love this day already.

Things I'm Happy About

Things I'm happy about this week:

1. I've gone on a walk with Seamus 4 times this week (and it's only Wednesday!).
2. One of those walks was with Chris, whom I always enjoy spending time with.
3. One of those walks was happily accidentally with my friend and former law partner Jane Carney. Despite the fact that we live two doors apart we rarely get (take?) the chance to chat, so it was nice catching up briefly.
4. On one of those walks, Seamus was an extremely well behaved beagle!
5. I had lunch with my dad. That's us in the photo, enjoying lunch at the Mission Inn to celebrate his birthday. [I thought my hair had come back in pretty much his same color...but nope, his is lighter. And longer!]
6. I'm really enjoying writing The Dog Lived (and so will I), the memoir version.
7. Reservations are rolling in for the Brunch for Breasts at Restaurant Omakase on October 11th.
8. I did a pretty good job of setting priorities this week. I even ate well. Mostly.
9. Many people have returned to reading the blog. I guess you all just needed some time off. 

It's only Wednesday, but hey, that's a lot to be happy about, so I thought I'd share. (I know what you're thinking....who got on Teresa's computer and blogged for her?? I know, I know. I'm thinking the same thing, but let's all just run with this now, shall we?)

Pink Sloth

Hmmm. So now that we know I lived (so far, anyway; obviously I need to build suspense) apparently my blog is no longer interesting. My readership has dropped precipitously in this last week. Is it possible to have a negative number of readers? Possibly, if some of you demanded the time back that you wasted on earlier posts?  Or maybe, if I'm not a daily habit, it just doesn't happen? Or, perhaps, just perhaps, you, like me, have returned to the regular programming of your life. Uninterrupted by cancer. That's a lovely thought, isn't it? Well, sure, yeah, it is...except for that whole part where you don't care about me anymore....(kidding! I can totally handle ...the rejection...totally. Really, I'm happy you have a life. No, really.)

In the last week, post-"I really need to prioritize and perhaps really did lose my mind in chemo" revelation--I have been trying to be a bit more judicious in my life choices. I'm new at this and clearly it's going to take a little time. But, as I work on the memoir (and I have!! It's 66 really crappy pages now...subject to many, many changes)  I find less energy for the blog. Makes sense, my mind is back in earlier times (how Seamus got his name; how Chris and I came to be; those sorts of memoir-ish things), and current times (the law practice!)  and hey, let's face it, regular life just isn't as funny as breast cancer treatment (stop the hate mail--I said "treatment"; breast cancer isn't funny--what one goes through in treatment for breast cancer is completely, totally, undeniably, absurd).

Today, however, I realized just how out of the breast cancer loop I had become...and in just a week! Today was breast cancer awareness day...in the beginning of Breast Cancer Awareness month. Today was the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure all over the country.  I had several friends participating in several of the races, and they were posting pictures on their FaceBook pages. I was sleeping in, having my second cup of coffee and reading "Kinky Gazpacho" by Lori Tharps (and it's good; I need memoir examples!) and friends and folks everywhere were out walking for the cure. Or, er, racing for the cure. I can't even fake it--I'm too lazy and pink-adverse for that. Give up a Sunday? Exercising? With crowds of sweaty people?? No!! Isn't it enough I had cancer and did the whole breast cancer "Survivor" thing? Must I get out of bed and walk too? No. No. I don't have too.

Then Chris turned on the television to watch football. And the players and refs had donned pink hats, and gloves and....and....shoes!! The big, burly NFL dudes were in pink shoes!! Based on Facebook and television (and really, is there any other form of life??), Chris and Seamus and I were the only beings not participating in some sort of breast cancer awareness thingy. I have to admit, it felt a little strange. Was I supposed to be doing something breast-cancer-y today? Can't I claim the "too soon" excuse? Or am I, as I suspect, just a giant pink sloth?

It's good to know  that some things never change. Once a cancer dork, always a cancer dork. Not only did I manage to not at all handle my breast cancer in the expected way, apparently I'm not doing the survivor thing right either!

I'm determined though. So next Sunday at the Brunch for Breasts....I'm doing penance. 3 brunches and 2 Cure Royales for me! Also, we took Seamus for a walk tonight. But he adamantly refused to don a pink collar.

On Being Aware of Breasts

(Imagine the random hits I'm going to get on this blog because of that title. 13 year old boys and sundry fetishists, welcome. Or, er....not.)

It's October 1st. And so begins Breast Cancer Awareness month--as decreed  by U.S. President Obama (okay, and all of our Presidents since 1985 apparently). And here's part of his declaration:

"NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim October 2009, as National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I encourage citizens, Government agencies, private businesses, nonprofit organizations, and other interested groups to join in activities that will help Americans understand what they can do to prevent and control breast cancer."  (you can read the whole thing by clicking on President Obama's name above).

If my President asks, I must, of course, respond to the call. So let me share with you what I can to help prevent and control breast cancer.

First, and foremost, ladies...do those self exams. And gentleman...yeah, it can happen to you too. So no helping with our exams until you've at least done your own. And here's my best reason for emphasizing the importance of the self exams: I had a "perfectly fine, no cancer detected, nothing suspicious here" mammogram on July 22, 2008. In late November of 2008 I felt a thickening in my breast ("right breast, 10 o'clock"--that's the medical term for where it was. ;-) ) and by December 23, 2008 my second mammogram came back as "highly suspicious of malignancy."  And, of course, it was indeed breast cancer and a rapidly growing aggressive one at that. Note that timeline. There wasn't any misreading of my July mammogram. Nothing can be seen on that film. 5 months later and a 1.7cm tumor is clearly visible. Imagine if I had waited until it was time for my annual mammogram? Right. So don't you do it either. Self exam! A little self awareness never hurt anyone.

Next, of course, do get those annual mammograms. They at least help you know what's normal in your breasts. If something is there it isn't going to go away just because you are ignoring it. There isn't a single case of cancer being ignored into remission. Those cancer cells are nasty little bastards that would love to be left alone to do their dirty work. Don't let them!! The sooner it's caught, the better. Why take any chances?

Those are sort of the obvious "breast cancer awareness" items. But it really wouldn't be me if I didn't have a few more things to say, now would it?

Let's talk about those pink ribbons.

I was never really a fan of pink--and I mean baby pink (I'm fine with fushcia, hot pink, all that). It's completely consistent with my life in general that I would get a disease that is notorious by it's pink ribbon branding, just so it could attack even my aesthetic sensibilities. Apparently, I have Estee Lauder to thank for this.   According to Wikipedia (and how could that be wrong??)

"In 1993 Evelyn Lauder, Senior Corporate Vice President of the Estée Lauder Companies founded The Breast Cancer Research Foundation and established the Pink Ribbon as its symbol, though this was not the first the ribbon was used to symbolize breast cancer.^[2] In the fall of 1991, the Susan G. Komen Foundation had handed out Pink Ribbons to participants in its New York City race for breast cancer survivors."



[And note that that the big company basically stole the ribbon idea from what was then a start up little foundation where one sister was honoring the memory of her late sister! Of course, Susan G. Komen Foundation seems to have survived and thrived. As has the pink ribbon.]

The month of October finds pink ribbons on absolutely everything! (Note photo). To a very, very ridiculous extreme. This morning I noted that Yoplait wants me to send in my pink ribbon bedecked yogurt tops (clean, they are careful to request) and they'll make a contribution to Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. Really, Yoplait? Why must I wash a piece of foil, package it up with 20 other pieces of washed foil, pay postage and waste and envelope so you can donate...what, 20 cents? Maybe? Why couldn't you, dearest Yoplait (maker of my pina colada morning fix) just donate $X for every Yoplait yogurt sold in October? Or maybe just, um, donate money and then tell us you did it. Could it be that you know folks (or at least not the sane, busy ones among us) are not actually going to wash foil pieces and send them to you, so in actuality you get great "press" and advertising and you look like you're supporting important breast cancer research, but in reality...not so much.

And that's not even the worst offender. You can pretty much buy any piece of crap/ tchotcke bedazzled with a pink ribbon. And when you do, maybe, maybe 1/8 of a cent winds its way down to an organization that might be doing something about breast cancer. Maybe. Believe me, I get all sorts of emails and solicitations to buy things with pink ribbons and a lot of it is just so ridiculous and so clearly not actually benefiting anyone except, obviously, the manufacturer. Now,  I do own some of the pink ribbon festooned items. I will admit.  I have awesome wine glasses with not only pink ribbons, but rhinestones!! And I have another set with pink stems! And I love them, don't get me wrong (although let's be clear, in both cases the pink is definitely of the hot pink variety--some were gifts from friends who know me well; note, they are after all wine glasses!), but I have no delusions that money went to any breast cancer organization. And that's my point. If you are buying these pink ribbon items because a) you like them, or b) you think your friend/sister/relative/ co-worker who is dealing with breast cancer will like it and know you thought of her, fine. No worries. Buy away. But....if you really want to help breast cancer research, or breast cancer patients directly, please consider helping an actual existing local organization that you can see and talk to and verify the existence of.

I'm quite involved, at the moment, with one of those local agencies and we just named the Inland Agency's Breast Cancer Resource Center  "The Pink Ribbon Place"--precisely because everyone does indeed know the pink ribbon symbolizes breast cancer awareness. And believe me, we're running with the pink ribbon symbol. But we're doing it to raise money that will directly benefit people diagnosed with breast cancer and needing a place to turn for support. The Pink Ribbon Place will run support groups, have a lending library for books on breast cancer, have information, scarves, wigs, prosthesis available, and really is working toward being a center that can help a person dealing with breast cancer every step of the way. So yeah, we're going to exploit that pink ribbon, too. Starting with a Brunch for Breasts on October 11th at Restaurant Omakase from 9a.m to 2pm. $40 per person and $20 from each meal will go directly to The Pink Ribbon Place. (That's a lot of tin foil mail-ins right there!). If you live near Riverside, consider supporting the event. Your donations really will count. And, you'll have an incredible meal...check out this menu:
October 11th
Brunch For Breasts
9:00am - 2:00pm

eggs benedict
soft poached eggs, apple bacon, hollaindaise
breakfast sandwich
brioche, arugula, tomato, apple bacon
pumpkin pancakes
maple crème fraîche

polenta brûlée
polenta cooked with fontina cheese
all served with assorted fruit & our breakfast potatoes

our grilled cheese
brioche, gruyere

lobster salad 'on a roll'
maine lobster, tarragon, lemon, crusty roll

chicken apple sausages
smothered in apple & onion

omakase burger
brandt beef, garlic aioli, onion, tomato
all served with assorted fruit & duck fat fries

chocolate 'gooey' cake
ginger - sea salt ice cream

apple croustade
whipped marscarpone

pumpkin pound cake
cream cheese ice cream

pain perdu
french toast with caramelized quince
$40 per person, $10 for specialty drinks

And the specialty drinks? Mamm-osas and Cure Royales!! And yep, 1/2 the proceeds from those will benefit The Pink Ribbon Place as well! Drink for a cause! Does it get any better than that?

This time last year, I didn't even know I had breast cancer. This time last year, I couldn't even feel a lump. Now, I'm proud to say I'm an 8 month survivor. (They start counting from surgery--since that was the last we saw of any cancer in my body). I like to think it's all behind me but it's obviously an experience I'll never forget. As Chris's mom Trudi (a 16 year survivor) said to me early on, I'm part of a club now. And the club's color is pink. Okay then. Bring on the pink! [But let's not forget the awareness part too.... Self exams, people. Do it.]

[Update: I didn't know this when I posted the above last night, but apparently there is a website all about what they call " " pinkwashing""." It's called "Think Before You Pink. Huh. I'm not the only one who gets crabby about pink! It's a project of Breast Cancer Action...and I have no idea who that is, so now  of course I have to wonder, is BCA for real? Wait...is this blog real...am I real...?? More coffee, please.]