Bald Is Better with Earrings (and a sexy Piano Man who gets funky pre-going-bald haircuts with you)

“Don’t think of it as dying”, said Death. “Just think of it as leaving early to avoid the rush.” ~ Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman  

 

Nope, I am not dying just yet, my Wicked Luvs, so stop reaching for your blood-red-and-midnight-black best… I just really love this quote. All right, I love most Pratchett quotes… and when my Knight Writer’s imaginative wit is joined by the yumminess of Neil Gaiman, well… I must share the wild, wild, wild wisdom.

I love that those words embrace the soul and center of my chronic positivity: I do believe, believe, believe… that there will always be something great to get out of even the worst of situations: if the next few months promise to keep you dazed for hours at the time, catch up with all those TV shows you’ve been meaning to watch; if all your bits get so exhausted that you feel they are about to fall off, think of the whole thing as a challenge against your endurance; if the glorious jungle that is your hair is about to fall off in a week or 3, get funky haircuts with your partner in crime, in love, in living; when life gets too serious for games, play seriously hard; when darkness threatens to feed on all that is bright, let your fire burn, shine…

This year, my Piano Man and I were not so sure we would make it to New York Comic Con. I was supposed to have a port inserted last week, on the same day the convention started. But… completely coincidentally (and not because my doctors totally rock), the surgery was scheduled for after the convention. We did not attend two or 3 days, as we have done in the past, but we got to go on Sunday. And since the very first thing we saw (a Good Omens booth) included the phrase “third nipple”, I just knew all would be well (and slightly hysterical).

If we’re friends on Facebook, then you already saw this picture. Still, I had to share it again. I mean, how often do you get to show the faces of your husband and your TV boyfriend in the same picture? *waves at Crowley aka the coolest Doctor ever*.

There was not a lot of swag (that my Piano Man and I were interested in) this year, but we found rather cool earrings for the not-so-little Princess and for me. This pair glows in the dark. I might have to take them trick-or-treating.

Remember that bit I said at the beginning? About how “I believe… that there will always be something great to get out of even the worst of situations”? Well, I have finally figure out what to do with all the pins I have been hoarding for years. This one, which reads, “I’m wondering what to read next…”, was a gift from Rommy. The black ribbon came with a gift from Emma. See? I did not lose a breast, I just found a cool place to show off my pins and ribbons and scarves. 😀

These two might be my new most favorite pairs of earrings. How many beings get to say that they can dangle the TARDIS and two bat’leths from their ear lobes?

 

health Updates and other bits…

1. I am doing well, just busy juggling doctor’s visits and new treatment planning.
2. My inbox is full and then some. I’m not ignoring you, but… it might take me a while to get to your messages and emails and such.
3. The Beautiful Freaks Fest 2 announcement post will go live Monday or Tuesday. What? Don’t tell me you thought we would skip this year. Of course not! freakish beauty is relentless. Besides, nothing replenishes the soul (and distracts the flesh from hurling its guts out) like a wild bit of cyber-partying with awesome friends.
4. The title of this post was partly borrowed from Andrea Hutton’s Bald is Better with Earrings: A Survivor’s Guide to Getting Through Breast Cancer.
5. I don’t like even numbers, so here is an odd line… just for me (and for you, too, of course… if you want it): be good, be wild, be deliciously you… always.

 

Make Yourself Fortunate

“what if a dawn of a doom of a dream
bites this universe in two”
~ e. e. cummings

 

She shared bits of Clancy and Hansen and McEntire and cummings and Bass with us… and then invited us to poetize “What ifs…”. You need not use the exact words, she said to us. You need not provide answers, she said to us. So, I did (it felt good):

 

Dear me (who inks life
perfect),
what should I do if…

…misfortune claims me
day and night and in between,
stealing the moon out of my dark
and burning the sun
out of my light?

What if…
…fate makes me
a plaything, stripped of self-
worth and desire
to be?

What if…
…my flesh morphs
out of my grasp, my wild-
spirit becomes a memory
in a stranger’s past,
and I stop
seeing anything
but bad, bad, bad…?

What if…
…everything makes me
misfortune’s puppet?

 

Dear me (who inks real
life), craft wild new ways
to show your teeth—
make yourself fortunate
again, again, again…

 

the visual poetry

 

Linked to Poets United.