Monthly Archives: May 2012

Remember when Sue (the pretend-Buddha iguana) disappeared for a few days and then acted like nothing happened? Also: The end of May?

Remember when Sue, the pretend-Buddha iguana who lives on my wall, disappeared for a few days and then acted like nothing happened?


Something happened.

And I think I know what it was.


(and I’m pretty sure it was casual, motherfucker)

Yep.  Sue was out fucking around and now my backyard looks like a miniature Jurassic Park.

There are little iguana babies all over the place, skittering around on the ground, scaring the shit out of me and then hiding under the vegetation.  Which is probably pretty smart, since the birds seem to have noticed that they are here and would like to make a meal out of them.

I’ve tried to photograph them, but they are fast and my dang iPhone camera (and/or it’s operator) is s-l-o-w.

Just trust me.  There are a lot.

And what is Sue doing about this new development?


Just hanging on the wall, being all chill, ignoring me and his (her?) children.


I, for one, don’t think there’s anything “zen” about neglecting your children (or your friend Kim) Sue.  Where’s the loving kindness in that?

(I realize that I just confused Buddhism with Zen-stuff, but I’ve been drinking and I can’t sort it all out right now.)

I’m starting to doubt Sue’s buddha-nature.

I’m also starting to doubt my ability to write anything that doesn’t involve a (surprise!) LIST.


1.  How the fuck is it the last day of May?  Didn’t we just finish February?  I don’t understand time.

2.  If it’s the last day of May, then it is practically the 6th of June, which will mark 6 whole months since my artistic genius mom (with great hair) passed away.  And here is where time gets weird again.  I still feel like it happened yesterday.  I feel like it happened a lifetime ago. I feel like it never happened.  I feel like I’m still dreading the fact that it will happen.  I’m sad.  Every part of me is sad.  My hair is sad.  My toenails are sad.  My bones are sad.

3.  And I’m a little happy.  Well.  EXTREMELYHappy/Sad.  My brother and his wife (who I love) are having a baby ANY DAY NOW!  Aren’t babies amazing?  I always say that I can’t imagine ever loving another human being as much as I love my son, but my feelings for my brilliant niece Madison Grace come pretty darn close and my uterus is practically contracting in love for this new baby.  I’m serious.  I LOVE this baby.  I can’t wait to meet him/her and touch its little toes and kiss its little head and whisper “welcome to the world, baby – we already love you so much!”  And I can’t wait for my brother to get to experience this kind of love.  Primal love.  It’s such a gift.  Sigh….

4.  I was living in Denver and my sister was living in Atlanta when Madison was born.  She didn’t want me to come visit her right away when she had Madison, but when I heard that she was in labor and having a hard time (or maybe I imagined that part, I just couldn’t stand the thought of her in pain and none of us there with her)(even though her husband is amazing and totally capable STILL, I’m the seester) I left Denver in the middle of the night and flew to Atlanta.  And then I promptly forgot everything I knew about babies.  Seriously.  I was absolutely NO help at all.  I would like to think that I helped a little bit and that my sister was glad that I was there, but really, I think that I was more trouble than help.  STILL.  It seems like a representative of each family should be there to welcome the baby into the world, right?

5.  And now I’m in Mexico and my brother is in Los Angeles and they have said that I’m welcome to come anytime but I’m afraid to go because of the Madison debacle.  And I really really really really want to go.  So.  We will see what happens.  My next blog post may be from L-fucking-A, y’all.

6.  Or it could be from here, because I can’t seem to leave.  I look at flights and then I don’t buy a ticket about twice a day.  I know I have to leave.

7.  I also need to start working on the Celebration of Life we are having on July 14 (Mom’s birthday) in Lamar, CO.  We had a party for her here in Puerto Morelos in February and lots of family members were able to attend, but many more family and friends will be able to attend the party in Colorado in July.  Which is why it feels like her “FUNERAL”.  Which, it turns out, is why I had a major breakdown yesterday when there were some rumblings within the family about how maybe we should, ummm, start planning for this huge party we are hosting.  I lost it.  Completely.  I wanted to plan it and I didn’t want to plan it.  I was resentful and bitchy and I couldn’t even figure out what I was feeling or why.  And then I realized that none of what I was feeling was even about who was going to be doing the planning.  I just don’t want it to be planned. At all.  Because I don’t want it to happen.  Because I don’t want her to be dead.  And maybe the fact that we haven’t had a “FUNERAL” has somehow allowed me to continue to be in denial about the fact that she is really gone.

8.  Maybe this limbo that I’m in is also contributing to my inability to make any kind of decision about my future.  I’m not done taking care of my sweet mommy so I don’t have to think about taking care of me.  And so the party in July isn’t just huge in terms of letting Mom go, it’s huge in terms of “now what?” for me.

9.  So.  My friend Steve says that the little creatures that I thought were baby iguanas are not baby iguanas.  He thinks they are geckos.  He is wrong.  They are totally not geckos.  But I have to admit that it’s possible that they aren’t iguanas, either.  But I refuse to rewrite the beginning of this post, mostly because I’m still kind of pissed at Sue for disappearing like that and I like to think of him as a philanderer.

10.  This post would have been done approximately 10 hours ago but Steve the pretend “iguana expert” dropped by to drop off something and then we ended up going grocery shopping, chatting, drinking wine, chatting, watching the world go by on the front porch, chatting, having another friend stop by, chatting……  and that is just part of the reason why I love it here.  People just stop by and then adventures happen and more people stop by.  It’s not great for productivity, but it is great for, you know, LIFE.



p.s.  since i couldn’t get a picture of the baby iguanas (or whatever), the picture is of their environment – the side yard of the casa.  isn’t it cute?

p.p.s.  i suck at drinking early in the day.  that is why this post is going up so late.  i had to take a nap after the drinking.



Filed under Cancer sucks., The Caregiver with the Dragon Tattoo, Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing

The girls are back. The topic is (shhhhhh) sex. The casual kind.

I’ve been working on this post for, like, EVER and I just can’t get it written.

Probably because it’s about me and (gasp!) sex.  The casual kind.  If there even is such a thing, which I am starting to doubt.

What does “casual sex” even mean?  Less formal sex?  Sex with strangers?  Sport fucking?  Recreational sex?  Is one of these terms an umbrella term for the others?  What are the subcategories? Who decides that the sex is going to be casual?  At what point can formerly casual sex become non-casual sex?  Or vice versa?

Can you see how being a lawyer makes everything more difficult?



It’s hard to write about this topic — I now live in a very small town and people are starting to read this blog (which is awesome and also EEK! vulnerable!) and every once in awhile my amazing son Austin takes a peek (can you say “awkward”?) — but if this blog is about my “JOURNEY” or whatever, then it would be pretty weird to, like, never speak about sex.  I’ve been single a looooooong time, people.  And I’m not dead.  Sex is an issue.

And casual sex is an issue because (a) I’m me, and my libido sometimes works faster than my brain and  (b) I suck at it, pretty much and (c) I always forget that I suck at it until after I’ve done it.

Here’s how it typically (but not always) plays out with the girls in my brain — you remember them, right — kimmy, Kim and Kimberly:


kimmy:  “Woo-Hoo!  He’s cute/brilliant/funny/got a cute dog, let’s get naked!”

Kim:  “Oh fuck – please tell me we aren’t wearing those damn granny panties again tonight… Where’s the bathroom?”

Kimberly:  “Listen up SLUTS — are you fucking serious right now?  You want to get busy with this loser?  I can’t even see what he looks like on account of all the HUGE RED FLAGS surrounding him.  You know, the ones that say [insert red flaggy  things like “Probable Drug Addict” or “I’m 20 years older/younger than you” or  “Sure, I’m Single (tonight)” and/or  “Fuck Me, Everyone Else Has!” or  “I May Look 30/40/50 but I’m Really 13” or  “Hi, My Name Is Bob (my name isn’t Bob)” or “The Tin Foil Protects Me From Aliens!” or “I Only Talk About Me!” or “I Can’t Wait to Tell The Guys At the Bar About This!” or “You’re Buying, Baby!”]

kimmy:  “You’re hallucinating, Kimberly.  I don’t see anything except those beautiful blue/brown/green eyes and did you even see his lips?  Why are our clothes still on? Let’s go, girls!”

Kim:  “She’s got a point about his lips, Kimberly…. I can’t stop looking at them.  I think I’m hypnotized.”

Kimberly:  “Look away from his lips, Kim!  Jesus, this is getting out of hand.  Who the fuck ordered the margaritas?!”

kimmy:  “I love margaritas!  Are the granny panties gone yet?”

Kim:  “Oh shit, the lips are moving and they are saying sweet things.  Can’t.  Look.  Away.  I need to bite that bottom lip.  Come ON Kimberly, can’t you throw caution to the wind just this one little time?”

kimmy:  “Why are you even talking to her, Kim?  She never wants to have any fun.  I think she is frigid.  She fucking enjoyed the year-long Moratorium.  How is she even related to us?

Kim:  “She’s got a point, Kimberly.  You do seem frigid.”

Kimberly:  “One of us has to be frigid…. Listen, we don’t even know this joker — does he even have a name yet, sluts?  This is a VERY BAD IDEA.  No good can come from this.  We will have a teensy little bit of fun and then what?  NOTHING.  That’s what.”

kimmy:  “What if it’s a LOT of fun?  Why does anything else have to come of it?  Why can’t we just have fun?  Honestly I don’t even care what his name is.  What does it matter?  It’s not like we are looking for a “RELATIONSHIP”…. (she shudders)

Kim:  “Did you see his hands?  This could definitely be a LOT of fun.  (tearing her eyes away from him and turning to Kimberly) I kind of agree with kimmy — I mean, I do think we should probably get his name, but beyond that, what is the big deal?  We’re single, we will be careful (she starts rummaging through her purse for condoms) he’s probably not a serial killer — why not go for it?”

Kimberly:  “Nice.  He’s probably not a serial killer…. Then of course we should have sex with him.  I mean, if that is the criteria, why not?”

Kim:  “Now you’re just being a bitch…. FOUND THEM! (holds up the box of condoms, which she has because she is CAREFUL, not because she is a NYMPHO)…. Have you even noticed the kissing?  FIREWORKS!!!!  Oh shit, now he’s kissing our neck…. come ON Kimberly, let’s play!”

Kimberly:  “Yes.  I noticed the kissing. (heavy sigh) Jesus, how do we get into these situations?  He does have nice hands, BUT mark my words, sluts, it doesn’t matter that we’re not looking for a relationship, once this happens you guys will be all “oh, he’s so great, I wonder when he’s gonna call, I can’t wait to do it again, why hasn’t he called?” and then you guys are disappointed and then you regret everything.”

kimmy:  “Can you guys shut up already?  We’re busy, in case you haven’t noticed…..”

Kim:  “Wow.  Look at her go! (turning to Kimberly – who is pounding her head against the wall, while also trying to see what kimmy is up to)  I feel like pounding your head against the wall is not helping anyone and is overly dramatic.  It’s not the end of the world, Kimberly.  It’s just sex.  Let’s talk about it tomorrow (winks)”

Kimberly:  “Lovely….”

—————— 24 Hours Later ——————-

kimmy:  “Oh.  My.  God.  That was amazing.  What was his name again?”

Kim:  (dreamily) “Bob…. his name was Bob….. Not that it matters, since there were so many red flags around him and he’s obviously entirely WRONG for us and we will probably never see him again……… but remember when he said we’re [insert sweet/insincere thing:  “smart” or “pretty” or “hot” or “awesome” or “nice” or “interesting” or “funny” or “a lot of fun”] and remember how he asked for our phone number?  That was soooooooooooooo sweet.  Even though he will probably never call and that is FINE, because he is so obviously not someone we would ever be interested in.  Ever.”

Kimberly:  “Here we go.”

kimmy:  “OUCH! I can barely MOVE, girlfriends!  Bob was a maniac.

Kimberly:  “Nice.  Are you complaining or bragging,party girl?”

kimmy:  “Both!  I knew you had a sense of humor under there somewhere, Kimberly….Bobby-boy is very…. flexible…  he might have a speech impediment, though, and did you see those sex faces?  Too funny! ….”

Kim:  “I wonder if I wrote the phone number down right?  Sometimes my handwriting is not very legible.  I should’ve put it directly into his phone, that’s how all the kids are doing it these days.  Not that it matters, because I think it would just be weird if he called.  I mean, why call?  It’s not like we would go out with him again.  We have absolutely nothing in common with him.  He was a really good snuggler though, right?  I mean, not every guy can snuggle for hours like that.  That was nice.  Oh, and remember how he said our hair smelled so good he couldn’t get enough of it?  Sweet.”

kimmy:  “I would totally fuck Bob again.  Who cares if we have nothing in common, we’re totally not interested in a relationship, amirite?”

Kim:  “That seems a little callous, kimmy…. He is a person, not just a piece of meat.  Maybe we do have some things in common, you never know.  It’s not like we covered a lot of ground before, you know.”

Kimberly:  “What a surprise.  Now we’re interested in Bob.”

Kim:  “We are not interested, I’m just saying that he might not be as wrong for us as we originally thought….. were you not there for the snuggling, Kimberly?  That is powerful shit.  There was a connection there, I know it.  Not that it matters, probably.”

Kimberly:  “Um hmmmm.”

kimmy:  “Dude, why are we waiting for Bob to call us?  Let’s call him!  I could totally go for another roll in the hay.  Get while the gettin’s good, right?”

Kim:  “She’s right, Kimberly.  We should probably call him.  I don’t want him to think that we were just using him for sex.”

Kimberly:  “Remember when you justified sleeping with him because it was, and I quote “JUST SEX”?”

Kim:  “Still.  He doesn’t have to know that.  It might make him feel bad?”

kimmy:  “Are you on drugs?  He’s a MAN.  He would be thrilled to be used for sex.”

Kimberly:  (mumbling) “Happens every time.  Every.  Single.  Time.”

Kim:  “It does not happen every time, THIS IS DIFFERENT!  Remember no name in 2005?  It didn’t happen that time.”

kimmy:  “That was horrible sex and No Name turned out to be a stalker named Geronimo, of course it didn’t happen that time.”

Kim:  “Thanks, kimmy (rolling her eyes) …. Who’s side are you on?”

kimmy:  “Hey, I’m happy either way, I am just trying to keep you honest.”

Kimberly:  “How refreshing.”

kimmy:  “Zip it, Kimberly.  Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

——– phone rings ——–

Kim:  “IT’S BOB!!!!!!” (happy dancing)

kimmy:  “Woo-Hoo!  Round Two!” (rummaging through underwear drawer for cute, non-granny, panties”

Kimberly:  “Fuck My Life.” (looking for vodka)


So.  Yes.  Casual sex is almost never entirely casual.  At least for one of the chicks in my head…. 🙂

And it’s even LESS CASUAL if it happens more than once, regardless of the justifications set forth initially.

Is it different for men?  I think it must be.  And probably for some women.  Some super-smart, independent, completely secure, MAN-HATING, women.  Just kidding.  They probably aren’t completely secure.


It’s an issue.

And I don’t plan on figuring it all out right here in the blog.  At least not today.  But your (NON-JUDGY) input would be greatly appreciated!



p.s.  I love this:

p.p.s.  I’m sure some of you are married and are either (a) scandalized or (b) titillated by this post.  I’m sorry/you’re welcome. Just remember, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Being single can be fun.  It can also be lonely and confusing and complicated.  Sometimes marriage/relationships look like nirvana to me.  I miss being close to someone.

p.p.p.s.  You do remember that this is a blog and for entertainment purposes — some dramatic license has been taken.  Like, for example, there was no No Name.  In 2005.

p.p.p.s. Ohhhh, I feel the judginess coming my way……. YIKES!

1 Comment

Filed under My Big Book of Me, Things My Son Shouldn't Read, Uncategorized, Writing and Not-Writing

Dear Mom, Remember when you were alive and I was bitchy and ungrateful? Sorry. Love, Kim

Dear Mom,

It’s Mother’s Day here.  Which totally sucks because you’re there.  And I’m not even sure where “there” is.  I hope you are well, Mommy.  I also hope that, wherever you are, they have lilacs and strawberry shortcake and Coca Cola and grapes and babies and convertibles and sugar cookie dough and an unlimited supply of flowy gauze clothing.  When I imagine you, you have all your amazing silver hair and you are tan and you are draped in Marguerite jewels and are wearing some gauzey white stuff.  And you are smiling.  Which makes me smile, and also cry.

I’ve done a TON of crying today.  Mostly about how much I miss you and how much I miss my little sweet pea, Austin.  But also because FUCKING WORDPRESS JUST DELETED THE POST I WORKED ON ALL DAMN DAY.  I know you hate it when I cuss on my blog, but it was a good post, Mom.  If you’re really an Angel or whatever, then you probably know how good it was, because you were watching/listening to me write it and sob uncontrollably.


I can’t rewrite the entire damn post now — it would take forever and I can’t really remember everything I wrote.  I’m really starting to worry about my memory.  Did anyone in our family have early onset dementia or Alzheimer’s?  File that under “Things I Wish I Had Asked You When You Were Alive”….  Along with “Where the fuck is the septic tank at this house?” and “Where are the replacement bulbs for those fancy lights in the kitchen?” and other important stuff.  You wouldn’t believe how often I find myself thinking “OMG I have to call Mom and tell her about this right now!” or “I will have to ask Mom about this…..”  Another memory issue, I guess.  I forget that you’re dead and I’m stuck here without you.  Or mostly without you, depending on whether you’re an angel or whatever.


I miss you.  That is mainly what I want to say today.  I miss you.  I miss you.  I miss you.  I even kind of miss the things that used to drive me NUTS about you — like how you used to eat, like, half of a grape and then put the other half in plastic and then back in the refrigerator.  And how you would always just throw food in the garbage disposal and then not run it….  And how you used to constantly eat corn nuts or do something loud with your hands  — like empty the ice trays or drill a hole in some concrete — while we were trying to talk on the phone  and then you would be all “What?  I can’t hear you?” and I would be all “STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING MOM!” and you would finally stop and then be all “Oh.  Well that’s better, isn’t it!”

(You know what I don’t miss, Mom?  The way you used to put your bare feet all over my dashboard.  That was gross :))

I love this picture of us — partly because it was probably the last fun day that we had together and partly because that is how you always used to hold me when I needed to cry.  You would pull me close and put your arm around me and play with my hair and tell me that no matter what awful thing was happening, it was all going to be okay.  I remember that when I was little  I used to fall apart every time I came home from a long visit with Dad.  I don’t know if I was sad to be leaving Dad or happy/relieved to be home with you, probably both.  Anyway.  You never asked me to explain, you just held me like that until I was done.  And I remember the day that we were sitting on your kitchen floor surrounded by debris from some home improvement project you were working on and we were talking and I finally realized that my marriage was over.  I was so ashamed and so sad and so scared and you crawled over all the crap on the floor and held me and stroked my hair until I couldn’t cry anymore.  You told me that it was going to be okay and that you would be with me and that Austin would survive.  And you were right, Mom.  Eventually it was okay.  And because you were there for all of us, Austin was okay too.  Thank you, Mom.  I don’t know if I ever told you how much that meant to me or how much I appreciated all the times you took such good care of Austin when his Dad and I couldn’t.

I wish you were here to hold me like that now, Mom.  It’s hard to be here without you.


Remember when you were alive and I was sometimes bitchy and ungrateful?  You were probably thinking “Oh, she’s really going to regret this shit when I die, just watch!” and you know what?  You were right.  YOU WERE RIGHT, MOM.  There, I said it out loud.  I hate that I was ever bitchy to you, especially when you were sick.  I hate that I took so many things for granted, Mom.  I hate that I didn’t thank you for every single thing you did for me before you died.  I’m so, so sorry.  I know that you already know all this, I just wanted to say it out loud.  I’m sorry.  And I love you, mamacita.  And I miss you.  And Happy Mother’s Day.



p.s.  this is really just between me and my mom, so it feels a little weird sharing it, but WTF, i share everything else with you guys.


Filed under Uncategorized

Another place, another train. RIP MCA. Also, another list!

I am so saddened by the news that Adam Yauch – MCA of the Beastie Boys passed away.

He was my age.


I’m not going to pretend that I’m any kind of authority or super-fan of the Beastie Boys or Adam Yauch – I’m not.  But some of their music forms the soundtrack of my youth and I still listen to it today when I want to remind myself of what it felt like to be young and vibrant and so alive.  “She’s Crafty” and “No Sleep til Brooklyn” are probably my favorite BB tunes and both rank high on my “most played” iTunes list, with “Intergalactic” close behind.

Heavy sigh.


What else?

Oh, it’s Cinco de Mayo!  Seems like a good time for a list!


1.  It’s Cinco de Mayo and I’m in Mexico.  Which would be way more cool if Cinco de Mayo wasn’t a holiday that the Mexicans make fun of other people for celebrating.  Still.  It’s a holiday in my book….

2.  It’s eleventy-seven million degrees fahrenheit here today.  And it’s not a dry heat.  So instead of beach blogging, I’m bed-blogging with 2 massive fans pointed directly at me.  This is totally drying out my eyes, but making my hair fly around like I’m a supermodel at a photo-shoot, so that is cool.

3.  I could turn on the air conditioner, but then everyone would think I am a total wuss.  Air conditioning is a sensitive issue here, you guys.  For one thing, it’s expensive.  The electric utility here has some bizarre rate system that no one can explain to me, but basically it seems that once you hit a certain point of usage, the cost per unit of usage goes really, really high for the rest of the month.  To get around this, many houses are built with 2 or more electric meters, so that no individual meter hits the dreaded usage level.  My house has 2 meters.  The problem is that (a) I don’t know which meter corresponds with which part of the house (and therefore don’t know which air conditioning units are on which meter) and (b) I have no way of knowing what the dreaded usage level is by looking at the meters.  So that is confusing.

4.  But the real issue is that people judge you on whether or not you can stand the heat.  The thinking seems to be that people who can’t stand the heat are obviously inferior to those that can and also that if you can’t stand the heat, you should probably go the fuck back to where you came from and leave the whole “living in Mexico” thing to the professionals (and the Mexicans).  This seems a little harsh to me– a person who hasn’t adjusted to heat + humidity YET.

5.  Oh – I’m alive!  (No thanks to Typhoid Fever.)  About 5 days into the 10 days of antibiotics I started to feel like I just might make it and now I’m feeling enirely human again.  Yay.

6.  Big changes here at Casa de Colores — I’ve moved myself out of the big suite area in the back of the house and I now have a RENTER….  Weird, right?  It’s kind of a great spot for a renter, though.  It’s pretty much a studio apartment back there with a brand new refrigerator and microwave and a separate entrance, etc.  It’s weird to have someone in the house – especially when I’m used to running around half-nekkid in the god awful heat and to playing my music extremely loud when I’m showering, cleaning, cooking and/or writing.  Which pretty much covers everything I do in this house.  So there’s that.  But it also means that I’m getting a little bit of income to offset the cost of living here.

7.  Which is good, because I’ve decided to live here!

8.  Well, you know, KIND OF.  I’m having a hard time making any kind of firm committment to anything these days, but I’m mostly sure that I’m going to try to live here, like, for real.  At least for most of the year.  I have to go back to Colorado to take care of my stuff, my Mom’s stuff, etc. for at least a few months this summer and then I hope to come back in September/October and to stay through until at least next summer.

9.  I’m still trying to figure out exactly how I’m going to support myself here, but (SPOILER ALERT) it might involve (shhhhh) practicing law again.

10.  OMG – the monsters in my head are having a massive rally against the aforementioned (shhhhh) practicing law again, so I can’t really discuss it now, but YES, I think it is going to happen.

11.  The supporting of myself will also have to include some other stuff because, at least right now, the (shhhh) practicing law again is very, very part-time.  I think the other stuff may involve WRITING for MONEY – just not the kind of writing for money that I dreamed I would be doing, i.e., the best-selling novel kind of writing for money.  Oh no, this kind of writing is more the internet content and/or freelance article writing kind of writing.  Not nearly as glamorous, but more likely to pay actual money sometime before the year 2020.

12.  This is kind of a major announcement (Announcement!).  I probably shouldn’t have buried it in a Cinco de Mayo list.  Whatever.

13.  Have I mentioned that I’m about to be an Aunt again?!!!!  My brother and his wife are expecting their first child in early June!  I’m so excited and I’m also a little bit sad that our artistic genius Mom (with great hair) won’t be here to enjoy this new baby and his/her little tiny twinkle-toe feet.

14.  There’s more, but I can’t tell you about it right now.  Ha!



p.s.  sometimes i just feel like i’m writing you guys letters instead of “blogging” — is that wrong?  there’s also a lot of pressure (ok, it’s internal pressure, but still…) to be either (a) somewhat profound or (b) funny when i write and sometimes i can’t come up with either of those things.

p.p.s.  a baby!!!!


Filed under Cancer sucks., Writing and Not-Writing