Sincerity vs. Sarcasm

I have two books on the table in front of me. One is sincere, the other sarcastic. They both have the same intent, hysterical or happy living. I think I can play them off each other for real development.

Lindsey got me the sarcastic book for my birthday, then bought herself a copy. This Book Will Change Your Life (Amazon link here) will probably not change my life, because I've already rejected three of the topics out of pure spite. And I'm not even talking about my own spite, but the authors'. For example, I refused to put a "Out of Order" sign on public infrastructure on Day 5.

And when I tried to set up a link to their blog as suggested  on Day 10, my application was rejected by sending my browser to Playgirl's website. HA HA. Very funny. Dumbasses.

It's not all bad. Day 4, World Coloring Day was quite informative. I was instructed to color code the world map with places I have been (green), would like to go (yellow), and happy never to set foot there my whole life (red). There was much more red than I would have expected, mostly places I'm warned Americans aren't really welcome.

So I plan to supplement that book with Field Guide to Happiness by Barbara Ann Kipfer (here). I've had this book for a while and quite enjoyed it. It is a positive approach, with list-making, mind maps, and journal ideas. I LOVE making lists. I love my notebook and my little mind maps.

LINDSEY! What's been your experience with the Book? Who wants a happiness assignment?

Hats in action! 1

Hats in action! 1, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

Worst craft blogger ever! I tend to give my creations away before I can even photograph them. However, since I love to mash sardines into my ice cream (and bad analogies), I have now created the craft / street fashion blog, where I give people crafts and then try to catch them wearing them in public while I have a camera. It's like shooting fish in a barrel of ice cream!

Anyway, Kelly on the far left with the double-shooters is wearing on my favorite hats, a light blue alpaca yarn helmet crocheted from a vintage pattern, topped with giant pom pom. I figured if anyone could pull it off, it would be Kelly.

Now, stop looking at the kitty cat in the leopard bra. Look at my hat! I made that hat.

Can I send a text message to my blog? And why would I want to dob that?

Okay, can I stop thinking about this now?

So, the "radiation" is done. The full body scan discovered that maybe I shouldn't have held that pill after all (4 additional views of my hand and hip, only to determine it was my hand that was "hot"). My throat feels kind of funny sometimes, but a glass of water or lemon drop usually fixes it right up. I declare it "cancer for creampuffs".

I know that it sounded scary, but nothing "really" happened to me. I mean, it was mostly the fear, and on that level, I guess I have experienced cancer. But the treatments and surgery were really easy for me. I am certain that other regimens are not that easy, and I know that I'm a baby. I learned a lot about my patients at work and even a few of my friends. Fear is not your pet or motivator. It's just crap.

So on to the crafts, I say! I'm working on a hat (for me, selfishly!!) and a belly dance bra. I will get pictures of the other 3 hats I've finished and the 10-10-10 scarf. But some of them are birthday presents, so it might be a little late breaking news. I hope to get pictures of the recipients wearing their gifts. I've also got plans for a some jewelry for another birthday girl.

The line between planning and worry is where again?

Well, the actual radiation pill was pretty much the most boring doctor's appointment ever. I'd been carefully avoiding dairy products, products of the sea, processed food, iodized salt, and exuberance like a good girl for 10 days, I'd had my pregnancy blood test, I brought some reading and knitting. The doctor was running late, of course, so I waited. The radiology tech that called me back was vaguely familiar from my work at that hospital (oh, the joys of living in the same town your entire life....) and seemed vaguely uncomfortable with me. The room contained a bed, a chair and a lead container.

When the doctor showed up, he initialled some things, went over the discharge instructions, and opened the container. The pill looked like your stereotypical capsule. The tech ran to get a glass of water, and didn't seem very happy about me holding the thing in my hand. I drank the water, swallowed the pill. The tech "took the measurements" (geiger counter???) and I was out the door.

Today I'm feeling a little funny in the mouth. Nothing horrid. I'm supposed to get some lemon candy, which I am on my way out the door to do. I had to continue the low-iodine diet until the end of the day yesterday, so I started today with a Pig in the Garden scramble at Food Dance. Mmm. Smoky apple bacon.

But I've been thinking about the relationship of planning and worry. Once the plan is in place, any further thought seems to lead to worry. And worry is the biggest waste of time. I had a list of questions I wanted to ask the doctor, and I started to ask them Wednesday when I was there getting an injection. The medical assistant kind of snapped, "What's the big deal? It's two injections and a pill." At the time, I was kind of angry. But she was right. It was two injections and a pill.

It's not as bad as it sounds, but I miss you, Cheese.

So, I'm on day 5 of the low-iodine diet. I just had a really delicious pasta salad with fresh tomatoes and basil and vinegar and a little onion, and a grilled chicken breast. It would have been perfect with some fresh mozarella on top.... But maybe next Sunday.

I did totally cheat twice this weekend, so I need to buckle down for the rest of the week. Both cheats were worth it, though. Richard bought Sarkozy cookies for a barbeque because he didn't want me to worry about dessert (uh, I wasn't), so I stole a bite of a chocolate chip one from Cande. Saturday night was a birthday party with a beautiful mocha torte from Boonzaijer's Bakery, and you can bet I wasn't going to miss that. I ate the whole piece.

I hope to learn something, though. So far, it's that I take deliciousness for granted. Must slow down and taste things. Also, I rely on cheese too much. I mean, cheese is the only taste I'm really missing, but it doesn't necessarily need to go on everything.

The rest of the week is pretty busy. I said I'd be in a writer's group again, and that meets Monday. I haven't written anything yet. I haven't read a poem out loud to a group since before the year 2000? Shocking. Not sure how I feel about that yet. I had originally gotten out of the workshop scene because I had fallen in with humorless "feminist" writers, who basically just didn't want to deal with any men. Well, they allowed one man, but he was an elderly professor type. Now a couple of them front around Kalamazoo as the "published", and therefore "real" poets. I have avoided them and their events. But when they attempt to take over the publication of my favorite professor from college, well, it's time to start writing again.

What a great reason to jump back in - revenge?

List of Fears

I have to start the low-iodine diet tomorrow to prepare me for the radiation dose in 9 days. This has meant I have spent the last 24 hours in a panic / denial. The internet is not your friend when you are in this mode. I know this, too, but couldn't listen to myself.

Fear 1. I will actually have radiation side effects like losing my hair. However, that does mean I can wear a turban, which might be pretty cool.

Fear 2. I will harm Mr. Awesome with my radioactive self. I do have a plan, but I forgot to enact it. I was trying to wean him from the shoulder snuggling, but I think I get more out of that than he does. I shall just have to be strong, and play with the fishing pole toy alot.

Fear 3. I will lose my sense of taste. Literally. It's supposed to mess with your saliva glands. Although I always thought I should drool less, in general I would prefer to be moist than dry. The remedy is supposed to be something about sour candy, and I do love LemonHeads and their boxes.

4. It won't work and I'll have to do it again. I guess "easy" radiation is still better than chemo / radiation, so I'll just have to make it work.

5. Which is why this fear is the scariest - I won't be able to follow the low-iodine diet, which will cause the treatment not to work. But I can. I like vegetables and meat. I can have more pepperoni in 9 days.

6. But see fear 3! It will taste like tin! But it goes away in 30 days, which could just make for the thinnest birthday ever.