I love a bitch fest as much as the next guy. So why am I not feeling the phone vibrating my ear drums as I hear about another less-than-cranial move by a husband? Where’s all the talk about parenting angst and general unhappiness? And what about the searing deception when movie boyfriends suddenly get married? I’m talking about you, Daniel Craig. I’ll tell you where all the hardcore bitching is – it’s nowhere is where it is. Because my friends are PROTECTING ME. They think having cancer trumps anything they’re going through. But it isn’t true. I swear! No wonder my summer is so quiet. I feel so peaceful, I almost watched Whatever Happened to Baby Jane again, for crying out loud. I’m getting ZERO service again at coffee houses, which resets my over-40 status to invisible. No more special cancer treatment for me. So bring it on, ladies. Make me want to eat chocolate and swill martinis. I can take it!
1- Here’s one cool thing about radiation. I come home wiped out and get to take a nap while Brian makes dinner.
2- Got to hang out with Steven at a cafe just in time for a mime with a guitar and like 200 toddlers. Singing “You are my sunshine” as an alien trapped underwater ROCKED.
3- Had coffee with my pal Mary, who refreshed my senses with a full download of a truly crappy day. I needed that!