Thoughtful Thursday

Now normally, I'm not too big into obligations.

As I've gotten older, I realize that there is a real distinction between your garden-variety obligations and their more foundational cousin, commitment.

As I start to really acknowledge the enormity of what I went through during my time with cancer, I feel committed to bringing awareness and tools to others, so that they may not ever have to experience such suffering.

A couple of weeks ago, all three major U.S. networks aired a special called "Stand Up to Cancer". Not only do I always find this broadcast inspirational, I also find that the up-to-the-minute research they present is enpowering and hopeful.

Like most shows of this kind, the buzz is there the first day; it dissipates pretty quickly thereafter. I encourage you to visit the site,

SU2C.org

and to read the following - a piece that they started the show with - a piece that calls out cancer for the tenacious, apathetic, unwavering, body terrorist that it really is:

"Cancer doesn't care if you've won the Olympic gold medal.

Cancer doesn't care if you're beautiful, or brilliant, or just got into college, or just bought your first car.

Cancer doesn't care if your song is number one with a bullet.

Cancer doesn't care if you have your whole life in front of you.

Cancer doesn't care how many Oscars you've won, or how many tough guys you've played.

Cancer doesn't care that you have young children who need their mother.

Cancer doesn't care how well you sling a sledgehammer.

Cancer doesn't care that it just took your father.

Cancer doesn't care what time you have to get up in the morning, every morning.

Cancer, schmancer...

Cancer only cares if you sit still and do nothing. Cancer loves that...

Cancer doesn't care where you came from, or where you're going.

It just.

Doesn't.

Care. "

An Affair to Remember

Recipe for amusement of the highest magnitude:

Rope youngest son into being the official vonB photographer (I love ya, kid),

Take 1 of these:

(step off, ladies - he's all mine. And I do mean 'all'...)

Add two of these:
Apply liberal amounts of bedazzled badonk-a-donk, a dash or two of goofy to taste, sparkle with shiny, the slightest hint of nerple from the Baron...and voila!

You get three fabulous 'What Not to Wear's ready to participate in the 2009 Underwear Affair, an annual charity race for cancers below the waist.

Then, because of our celebrity status (?), add some police protection (doesn't HE just look so menacing?)

And we're off. . .

In true Canadian fashion, all facets of the population were represented:

Cowgirls,
Abba-didginals,
Local Flora,

West Coast Fauna,

(I think there may have been some cross-pollination going on at the after-party)

Sasquatches,

(a rare sighting - the moldy green fur is the result of all the rain we get)

and beavers.

(that is some fine-looking tail, mister)

While it wasn't too length a walk, the Countess of YikYak and I were feeling a little schvitzy; apparently being a superhero is hot work. We decided to have a rest and take in the scenery:
We did eventually manage to struggle against all rules of physics and get our gargantuan butts up to finish the race.

And then, as quickly as it started, poof!

The affair was over.

I guess there's always next summer.

The End(s).

***********************
A million colon-felt thanks to all my kind-hearted friends and blends who generously supported me in this worthwhile fundraiser. As of this morning, our team The Colon Crusaders had raised $10, 867 towards research into finding a cure for all of those insidious yet under-funded cancers below the waist - ovarian, colorectal, uterine, testicular, prostate. And we were just one team of many.

And of course, I must give props to my sistah partner in crime - I can always rely on her to raise our antics to a whole new level.

Love ya, PattyCakes!

The Sun Will Come Out - You Know When

Something I said I might do - someday.

A veritable picture of the of-the-moment Baroness:



That's me in the corner.

That's me in the dark light - losing my religion.

I now enter the dark, 2 week phase between having my routine blood work done and getting the results.

Masochist that I am, I am currently reading a very disturbing book (The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold) , and watching very sad things (my DVR'd Stand Up to Cancer), where tears freely flow.

I know full well what happens in these coming two weeks. I should be stocking up on David Sedaris, Archie Double Digests, and Austin Powers movies.

But I resist.

Why?

Maybe I think that if I get into a really dark corner, any wee speck of light at all will be blindingly beautiful.

Maybe I think if I weep (under the pretense of a sad movie), all of my anxiety will flow away.

Maybe I'm Swedish.

I heard one of my favorite Dixie Chick songs while driving around this morning - "Not Ready to Make Nice" - where they quote some of their hate mail as telling them to "shut up and sing".

Maybe I should just shut up and be funny.

And I'll try - tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

I love ya - you know when.