Chemo sucks; parties don't!

"I swear, the next time I go to a 'Cancer Sucks' party, I will drive up to West Seattle and buy the good cupcakes," I muttered to myself yesterday morning.

"What's that?" Matt said as he entered the kitchen.

"Look at these," I said. "It kind of looks like I wrote in blood."

He peered at my pink-frosted, cherry chip cupcakes. I'd written CANCER SUCKS in red icing, one letter per cupcake. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Oh...no, it doesn't."

"I mean, I just am not cut out to decorate cakes. I'm way too impatient."

"Baby, it's fine. They're fine."

"This is just not what I had envisioned. This is more like, 'Hey, in honor of your starting chemo, I slit my wrists.' It's just a little bit morbid, is what I'm saying."

Fortunately, Dori didn't seem to mind. Of course, she's also the girl who handed me her drink to try -- a surprisingly good combination of beer, lemonade, and vodka -- and said, "Don't worry, you can't catch cancer." The theme of the evening was "Chemo Sucks; Parties Don't!" I wish like hell she didn't have to face what's ahead of her, but what better way to start than with a party, hey? I knew it would be a good one when we pulled up in front of her house and saw the pink streamers and the bras hanging from a tree in the front yard. And we did have a wonderful time; even my reserved little girl was scampering around happily after awhile, bravely petting Dori's dogs (strange dogs make her nervous at first if they try to sniff her) and bringing crackers and snacks to Patti (whether she wanted them or not). Dori's family is incredibly gracious and friendly, and witnessing all the love surrounding her was truly a privilege.

Send good, healing thoughts her way. She's an amazing woman.

In other news, I'm going to get a tattoo soon. It's something I've wanted for a long time, and I've finally decided to just do it. I guess you could say it's a little back-to-school present to myself.