debutaunt.com

Starbucks, Take Me Away

You know you won't be having a good day when it starts off like this:

Coffee. Everywhere.

It's chilly outside. I take Zoester to school and come home, ready to make some yummy coffee and an egg white omelet.

I have to pee really bad. But I wanted to get my coffee on first.

1. Insert filter and my yummy chocolate coffee.

2. Fill up machine with 8 cups of water.

3. Put the pot on and hit the "ON" button.

Run to the can and pee. Decide to check email. Takes me about ten minutes.

Which one of the three easy steps do you think I forgot?

PUT THE POT ON.

I forgot to put the pot on and it held the drip for a little while, but then it started overflowing. And overflowing. And overflowing. Coffee and coffee grounds everywhere. Like a coffee explosion. A coffee volcano. A coffee fiasco.

I killed poor little Mr. Coffee. * Le Sigh*. I'm in mourning.

I can do this. I may have to go to Sixbucks once in a while, but I can do this.

Your assignment today is to recommend a good coffee pot. 10 cups minimum. Preferably with a timer. I need to get another one for my folks. The backup one they have is crap. We are serious about coffee at casa_debu.

Love. Love you. Love you Elvis.

Lordy Maury

Maury:

Does Kenneth look familiar? He was on the show before. And he was DNA tested as one of 13 potential fathers of Georgetta's baby.

"Did 1 man get 5 women pregnant? Take the test"

"I was Mariah Carey *that* night, and you KNOW it!!" (only if Mariah weighed about 500 lbs.

Poor Kenetta. Her husband may not be her baby daddy. Also, Kenetta cheated on him with a woman as well. Her husband was the father, and years later they are still together even though the girl keeps calling.

"My baby momma Esther is keeping a secret from me. I thought we had an open relationship. I can't believe she'd keep something from me."

Esther initially saw Kenneth on Maury the first time when he had a DNA test. Then she went to a club and hooked up with him b/c she was already pregnant to trick Kenneth into being her baby daddy. Poor Kenneth. Not his DNA.

Paul had a vascectomy. His wife cheated on him. Paul may not be the father. But some times the old snip didn't quite take and PAUL, YOU ARE THE FATHER! Too bad your wife cheated.

Ok. now see. I just gots to go. This is like planet wack.

What Good Catholic Girls Do...

Should I:

1) Douse mine eyes with Holy Water?

2) Go immediately to confession?

3) Say 2394230948 rosaries?

4) Ask the Pope to pray for me and my lust-filled heart?

5) Or buy this. amazing. calendar.

God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for the Dude.

An Ode to my Meds. Haiku Style:

Oh mighty Zyrtec
You clear out all of my snot
Don't wakeup without

Fat Potassium
Nearly hork while swallowing
Big giant horse pills

Love you Ativan
You make my day delightful
And a little bit high

Centrum Silver rocks
My nails are super duper
But hair now gray too

Calcium Chewy
Plus Boron and nutrients
Promotes my bone health

Magnesium blows
Stay near a bathroom always
It is a butt bomb

Depressed? Try this pill
Lexipro a-gogo, yo
You suck donkey balls

Norvasc. High blood pressure
Never had it my life
But mine is a wee up

Prograf is so small
But keeps me from rejecting
Most important med

The little blue pill
Valtrex stops the viruses
You don't want the herp

Protonix, my fav
My superhero of meds
Protects all my guts

Medrol is from hell
A necessary evil
Steroids. Fat face, blah

Don't get pneumonia
Bactrim on Mondays Fridays
Muy important

Vfend defender
Protects me from viruses
Suck it down two times

Lomotil Oodle
For your butt diarrhea
Very infrequent (add... whew!)

Lasiks for swelling
I don't take it that often
Makes you pee a lot

Lonly is Lopid
You made me hork every day
So we cut you off

Yay! Vitamin D
Strong bones for Glamazon me
Protect yer bones, girls!

Diabetes sucks
Take 3 kinds of insulin
Determined to stop

Ah. Then there's Darvon
Don't take it that often, but
Will do if needed

Starbucks is my love
My absolute drug of choice
I want your babies

BIG FAT CAFFEINATED BABIES. I WANT TO HAVE 2940823049 STARBUCKS BABIES. I WANT TO LIVE IN A STARBUCKS CAFE. I WILL NAME MY FIRST STARBUCKS BABY BARISTA VENTI LATTE. SHE WILL HAVE CHOCOLATE EYES AND FOAMY HAIR. AND SHE WILL NEVER SLEEP. AND I WILL WANT TO BITE HER FAT CHUBBY ARMS AND PUT HER IN MY BELLY.

I can do this. I'm caffeinated and am heading to the gym. I think I will do an hour of cardio as penance.

Your assignment today is to pray for me. I'm thinkin I need it. Even if you don't pray, just say.. hey, I know Deb believes in You big time. I know You like her. And she misses her friends. So please send her some goodness today. Make it a good day. She needs it.

And your other assignment is to stop bashing yourself and your body. If you don't like it, accept it for now and make it feel good. Right now there is nothing about my body that I even remotely like. But regardless, my legs are getting stronger and it makes me feel fierce when I feel down and like a big time sloth/ loser. Walk. Workout. Eat healthy. Have sex. Do some yoga. Turn off the tv and enjoy some good tunes. I'm listening to Stevie Wonder. You can't be bummed to the dude. To this song, it would be impossible.

I need some iTunes. I'm need to be inspired.

I love you. You know that, right?

Letters from the Mini

January 26, 2007

Dear Mom,

Next week is Catholic School Week. I like my school because I like dodgeball.

Love,
Zoe

Times change. Today Zoe had twin friends come over to play. Three six year olds. And I love these girls because they are super sweet. Anyway, they played all kinds of Barbies, dress up, school, and soccer.

They were fixing their hair with ribbons and clips. All 3 had on sunglasses, big ginourmous rings (I let them raid my jewelry box), earrings, and had on the "fancy" shoes. (Zoe - ug... white little heels - a gift from dad)

They were playing "President's Daughters." I was hoping it wasn't Jenna or Barbara though. I didn't think so because they didn't have fake ID's in their purses.

What A Wild Time I've Been Having

Ok. So yesterday. A first. I took a shower in front of a bunch of sexy, half or full-on-naked, great looking people. Bikini tops a-gogo. Pants optional. And everyone had beautiful hair.

Check 'em out.... soooo sexy!

And then... Woah. A wild-night...

Bed Head

Yeah. It's a regular brothel around here.

Corresponding. Cooking. Laundry. Hanging out. DVDs. Working out.

Only good thing around here is that my cholesterol has dropped 58 points in 4 weeks. Oatmeal. Nature's broom. And I'm addicted to my Arbonne. My skin still looks fantastic. If I win the lottery, samples for everyone!

That's about all. I'm here, just lower profile.

And I still miss you.

A Wee Hiatus

Dearest Internets~

I am going to go on a little hiatus until I feel like I have something to talk about. My successes in life are right around the corner, so I need to stroll on over there for a while.

I love you and I realize that I will be back. Someday. Probably sooner than later.

No, I don't have any test results yet. No I haven't relapsed (that I know of) No I didn't cold-turkey my Lexipro. Yes, I am thinking about going on a cruise. Girl Scout's honor, if anything interesting or noteworthy goes on, I'll letcha know.

I can do this. Because all this time I have never forgot who I am, how strong I am, and what is important to me.

Your assignment today is to step away from the computer, the blog, the tv, and do something fun, relaxing, energizing or productive. Do something out of the ordinary - extraordinary even. Make someone's day. Even if that someone is you.

Thanks for cheering me on, dearest Internets. Thank you for blessing Zoe and me with your love.

Thank you too. Pork chop.

Thank you, Em

"REMEMBER, YOU ARE TOUGHER!!!"

I am.

And right now I need to find a life off of the internet.

I don't know if I can come back. I don't know if I want to. I am the bad common demoninator. My life on the internet is cute or sad or cool. My life off the internet is real and can be messy and ugly. And lovely.

Elvis said he needs some time from me. I needed to let him be and I didn't listen to him. Because I always feel like death is looming right now. Like I have to have it all right now or it could be too late. But I need to stop being afraid of death and I need to live. I need to think outside the debu_cancer box. He is sweet, and tried to tell me what was really going on in his life. But I debu_didn't care. I ruined it as usual. And what I realize is that I can't be with anyone until I just can be with me. And take care of what I need to take care of. I love you, E, and I always will. I miss you. I'm sorry I messed up.

I have to get a real life. And in order to do that, I have to find myself, my life post-cancer. And I sure am not going to find that over the internets.

I do love you all ~ all of my internets. But I need to rediscover what is going on here instead of just writing about it.

If you are facing cancer, please kick its fucking sorry ass for me.

Will it Ever Be Quiet Again?

8. It's 8pm. And I'm ready to go to bed.

I called Dr. Egypt back today. He called a few days ago to check up on me. He must be lonely as he's been calling quite a bit lately. I know he misses Texas. He wants to move back (he's in Delaware). At least if he did, I'd have someone to talk to. He liked to go do stuff. To talk to me about everything. He made me laugh. Often. He still does with his cute accent and his dorky, funny ways. I'm not going to think about him any more. I can't.

All my friends live in Houston. I'm lonely. Elvis is gone. Work stuff. Dallas. Austin. Maybe for good. I hope not, but I have no idea. I am sad as hell because I don't know if he even knows. He doesn't even have time or doesn't want to talk to me. I'm not even sure if we are broken up or not. I think we are. I hope we aren't. He is my best friend. I can't think about it anymore. It upsets me.

So in the meantime, I'm making myself pay. I feel like Robert DeNiro in "The Mission." He kills his brother and feels like he should be punished by carrying around his armour. I feel like I have done something wrong. I must be a terrible person. I. Will. Have. To. Pay.

First the cancer and the treatment and the transplant. Then the lovetothedeathmatch of Monkey Boy, and then finding Elvis, this wonderful and beautiful man only to lose him somewhere, somehow. And now these tests. I feel like a giant monster is catching up to me.

And the only common denominator is me. There must be something wrong with me. It can't all be them.

I stopped making Zoe sleep in her own bed. She will one day. She kept coming in and waking me up anyway. So while she lays next to me, I hold her tight when she sleeps. And smell her hair. She puts her little hand in mine. Curls it up like a tiny mouse in my palm. Her cheeks are so soft and you can hear her little breath in and out. I think back to when i was in the hospital. I slept with her little monkey. I tried to remember what she smelled like; remember the way she used to reach out her hand and find the back of my arm. But my hospital room was all so antiseptic, so sterile. I couldn't remember my home. I couldn't remember her smell, her laugh, her hug. I felt like I was in jail.

She has been very calm and grown up lately. Working on signs, "Jump Rope Class This Way ----->" and working on a word find book. She's helped me a lot. She knows something is up with Elvis. She misses him and asks when he is coming back. I just tell her he's gone for work. I've caught her a few times dialing him on my phone. She knows his number. I was coming out of the shower when she said something to him and then I heard her say to his voicemail, "We love you," and "Mommy misses you."

I do miss you. I don't want to forget.

I want a vacation. I want to go to church and pray and cry and scream and be alone. I was at the gym and I was flying on the bike. Riding so fast I felt like my heart would burst. And I was looking out the window and everyone just seemed so normal and lighthearted. Walking in - smiling and fit. Carrying and bustling their children against the cold wind into the gym with them. Strong, healthy good-looking people. Young and old. All headed in. And then I noticed I wasn't just sweating, but I was crying. Like one big salty mess of liquid on my face. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. No one looked at me. I was off to the side overlooking the parking lot. No one ever looks at me. I want to be invisible. I want to pretend like I am a stealth ninja. Like I don't exist. I don't think I do.

I think I am going to go on that cruise. I will beg to go. I want to go by myself and read and sleep and look at the sun setting. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to explain cancer to anyone or why my hair is so short. I don't want to explain the slight limp I get at times. I want to feel the need to NOT have to explain. Just like carry on a normal conversation or just to be quiet. I can't remember the last time I went an entire day without talking to someone. I want quiet.

Can you see where this is going? Because I sure can't.

These tears in my eyes are thicker than blood.

The Weather. It No Like Your Skin

I find out test results this week. I feel lost. But I'm trying to keep busy so I don't feel anything. I want to be numb. I listen to my iPod almost all the time now. Basically I will find out the results this week, but will also have to have pap smears every 3 months until I have two years of clean pap smears. What fun.

I need distracting.

On other fronts...

Trust me. Buy and you will be happy. I was told I look 28 today. I was born in 1967. You do the math.

The NutriMinC RE9 Anti-aging system. The products are the bomb diggity. Worth every penny to me.

Or sign up and get the independent consultant's discount. Be your own boss. Make a little extra cash to save up for your next vacation. Or just sign up to get a discount on all of their amazing product lines.

But the best reason is that you will never enter another cosmetics department again. Just think, you don't have to look at some pissy, over-makeuped, over-producted, rude, snotty, pushy counterperson again. You will have your own business. You will have the best products. I'm addicted. I swear. And your skin will be the best in the car pool lane. I don't want to be a "desperate housewife." I want to be a CEO. I don't care if I make any money on it or not. Seriously. Because I just want to share the products. If I won the lottery, I'd buy you all whatever you wanted.

I know most people avoid MLMs - Makeup, candles, kitchen supplies, scamway, vitamins. I wouldn't have done this except that I know these products work. Not to mention, you can own your own business and you don't have to pay some insane start up fee.

I'm not being pushy. I'm just telling you that you honestly will love these products. I have truly never used anything better, and I am a sensitive skin expert. I don't endorse anything I don't think is the best.

The end. Do a lil' shopping. Try it. It's like buttah!

I can do this. I did an hour of cardio today. I'm a badass. I'm going to stay that way.

Elvis. I adore you. Be cool. Be cool.

I Just Need More

Silencio

The test. She's either going to be no big deal or a really big deal. He explained it to me, did the procedure (um. ouch) and said that he didn't see anything horribly bad, but that if it is bad, at least I came in early. I felt like I was going to throw up the entire time I was there. I hate going to those appointments alone.

They also did a blood test to see if I'm in premenopause. Which is likely because I had radiation and chemo. At this point. I don't care.

I will find out the results of the tests next week. I'm going to live at the gym so I don't think about it.

I worked out really hard yesterday. I'm very frustrated. I am going to ask my doc if I can taper off the Lexipro because I find myself aggitated like I did with the Cymbalta. I looked it up, and apparently can have the same side effects as the Cymbalta. Great. I'm taking a drug to help deal with the drug I didn't need in the first place whose side effects alter my state of mind.

I'd rather just work out. Endorphins are much more fun than drugs.

Ok. I'm being reminded that "I need to have some fun today."

I can do this. I have child that speaks bird. And P-caw, P-caw today means, "We need to have some fun today."

Your assignment. Simple. Do something fun.

I miss you Elvis. Be cool.

Public Enemy

I wake up now and my eyes are always dialated. I look kind of crazy or high. My docs don't know why they are doing that. No matter what meds I take or don't, they dialate until I get either a few more hours or sleep, or if I get up and get moving. It's bizarre. Maybe I have a brain tumor now. My doctor doesn't seem concerned. I'm pleased. Not.

Today I woke up and wanted to work out. Like immediately. I am going to work out as hard as I can until I get these stupid test results back.

I don't care what the results tell me. I don't want to go through all this shit again. The chemo. Going bald. Throwing up. Poison medicine. Radiation. Missing Zoe. Losing my strength. Losing my hope. Losing myself.

I want to fight and fight and fight until I die.

I am going to make my body pay for betraying me. All the ills, all the sorrow, all the shame, and all of the guilt. I'm going to work out like Linda Hamilton's stronger sister.

Badass

It's 12 o'clock. I'm going to shower and then go to this doctor. By myself. I have so many people in my life, but in the end, it's just me. No one wants to be there. No one can do it for me. I have to fight and be strong. I pray that the abnormal cells are just a fluke. That it has something to do with the transplant, and that it's not the shadow closing in on me.

I pushed myself for an hour and a half this morning doing cardio. I got sick in the middle of it. I don't care. I don't care anymore.

Fuck you cancer. I fucking hate you.

I can do this. I'm alone and I have nothing left but my determination.

Your assignment today is to remember who you are. When you think defeatedly, you will be defeated. You have gone through some hell and back. And you're still here. You can do this. Not for your husband or boyfriend or girlfriend. Not for your parents or family or children. You can do this for YOU. Suck it up today. Quit being such a wimp. Don't make me hand you a box of tampons!

I think I'm going to add this song to my iPod. Right now, my iPod is about the only thing I have going for me.

Public Enemy lyrics,
Fight The Power lyrics

1989 the number another summer (get down)
Sound of the funky drummer
Music hittin' your heart cause I know you got sould
(Brothers and sisters, hey)
Listen if you're missin' y'all
Swingin' while I'm singin'
Givin' whatcha gettin'
Knowin' what I know
While the Black bands sweatin'
And the rhythm rhymes rollin'
Got to give us what we want
Gotta give us what we need
Our freedom of speech is freedom or death
We got to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say
Fight the power

Chorus

As the rhythm designed to bounce
What counts is that the rhymes
Designed to fill your mind
Now that you've realized the prides arrived
We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart
It's a start, a work of art
To revolutionize make a change nothin's strange
People, people we are the same
No we're not the same
Cause we don't know the game
What we need is awareness, we can't get careless
You say what is this?
My beloved lets get down to business
Mental self defensive fitness
(Yo) bum rush the show
You gotta go for what you know
Make everybody see, in order to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say...
Fight the Power

Chorus

Elvis was a hero to most
But he never meant ---- to me you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Mother---- him and John Wayne
Cause I'm Black and I'm proud
I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps
Sample a look back you look and find
Nothing but rednecks for 400 years if you check
Don't worry be happy
Was a number one jam
Damn if I say it you can slap me right here
(Get it) lets get this party started right
Right on, c'mon
What we got to say
Power to the people no delay
To make everybody see
In order to fight the powers that be

(Fight the Power)

Dread

They are going to do the biopsy tomorrow (Friday) at 1:30.

I want to go by myself. But I also feel really scared and don't want to go alone. The sense of dread that I've had since the new year is still here. It's like every day is pretty much the same. And I feel like I have some ticking timebomb inside me and that I should be out seeing the world instead of counting down to die. I should be running. Skydiving. Riding my bike hundreds of miles.

I should pull Zoe out of school and take her to Rome. Or Greece. Anywhere but here. That I should spend hours kissing the man I love. Seeing the world and dying somewhere foreign. That I should die from some crazy wild mountain climbing accident instead of filling myself with meds and dying hooked up to a machine.

I think I'm going to take a Darvon and just go to bed at like 6 tonight.

I think all the dread of this procedure is a little bit overwhelming to me. This is the first test I've had post-transplant where the word abnormal has been used. Until I find out what's going on, I feel abnormal.

The Box Doc

And a BTW...

They had to cancel my appointment for the Procedure from Hell I was going to have today, due to the ice. Too bad. I'm going a little stir crazy too. I need to get out of the house. Even if it's to go to something I'm dreading.

I miss Elvis. He is gone. Don't know if I'll see him anytime soon either.

Keneisha Devereaux

Zoe, what are you spilling in there?"

I hear the noise again. Like someone pouring water on the kitchen floor. Then I realize....

It's BARF. Zoe is barfing all over my parents cool saltillo tile. It's the most barf I've ever seen, and I'm an expert on barf.

[aside] Woah, I'm sitting here, and I was looking for a barf entry (of which, unfortunately, I had many) and re-read the March 2006 archive and the February 2006 archive. I have sure come a long way.

Right now, Zoe is listening to my iPod and singing, "I don't think you're ready for this jelly... my body is blahboodalicions..." over and over. She doesn't quite understand all the words, so she mostly sings those two lines. I'm like... "Zoe, it's BOOTY-licious," but that's ok. We also downloaded some CD called Jump In. It's Disney, but the songs have a good beat and I don't know them. I think they'd be great for cardio.

So back to yesterday...

I run in the kitchen and there she is. Leaning over the barf, hands on the doorframe, standing there in her striped pink pantyhose tights. She *almost* made it to the bathroom, but instead barfed all over the floor and the door and the frame of the door. It was officially The. Worst. Smell. Ever.

Mom started the washer and I toweled it all up and tossed them in. I had to do it because Mom said she can clean up anything except for barf. She gagged a little bit. After I cleaned it up, she mopped like a madwoman and opened the porch door.

I think my child just ate way too much food yesterday. Taquitos, Mac N Cheese, and a slice of pizza. So gross. She also had a slight fever. It's making me very nervous as I don't want her to get sick. But we did talk about eating foods that are good for you. Much easier to throw up soup than it is pizza.

I gave her a bath and tucked her in last night. She made me sing to her. Then she kept waking up a few times telling me she was afraid. I think she was listening to the ice hit the window and the heater coming on and off. I woke up this morning and she had snuck in my bed. I hadn't even noticed. Poor little baby. There was no school, and she seemed better.

We are still pretty much iced in. And getting a bit of cabin fever.

I can do this. I'm friends with Kenisha.

Your assignment for today is to find me something funny on the internet as I think I've reached the end of it.

Restless and Icy

It's icing in the Alamo City. Zoe isn't going to have school tomorrow. Elvis is all holed up at his casa, and I probably won't get to see him tomorrow.

Not much else is going on. I'm still dreading the procedure I have to have Wednesday. Although my leukemia forum folks said that it is quite common to get abnormal cells up until about a year post transplant. Learn something new every day. As many chest x-rays and other stuff I had, I'd really be surprised if I'm not a martian.

Zoe is currently sitting in a laundry basket watching the Popeye movie on tv.

Ok. I need to bathe. I smell like meds.

I can do this. I have clean laundry and Zoeinabasket.

Your assignment today is me just being nosy. I'm stealing from Sassypants at Maisonpants.

1.-- What's your favourite fruit?
2.-- What's one of the worst names you've ever heard?
3.-- Tell me a secret.

The Tail End of Delurking Week

De-lurking Week will be January 8-12 of the brand-spankin'-new year.

Like Y at Joy Unexpected, I too want to know who is about the debu_place. I like that she asked:

I only ask two things.

That you leave a real email address and that you tell me one thing that I should know about you.

Ready?

Go.

So if you've been lurking (or not) how about a hello? I'm just curious.

MT still hates me. I can't post pictures.

A Questionaire from DeAnna Banana

Because I'm curious. And the first question was funny.

1.) Where were you when the ball dropped for 2007?

Actually, I think I was on the can. Or brushing my teeth. Pretty sure it was the can b/c Elvis was in our room as was Zoe. We were at this hotel. And I was thinking... "Great. It's midnight and I'm on the can peeing. This is what I will be doing for all of 2007." And while I was typing this up, I had to stop to go pee. Well, at least my kidneys work.

2.) How did you get the idea for your myspace name?

Same as here. Was named Debutaunt by a guy on Yahoo. It suits me.

3) What are you listening to right now?

Three television sets. With three different shows on. It's a caucaphony of evil.

4.) Has the death of a celebrity ever made you cry?

Yes. Mr. Rogers, Ed Bradley, Marvin Gaye, Bruno Kirby, Gilda Radner. (Mom said Gracie Allen)

5.) What color underwear are you wearing?

black. probably. maybe? oh. Yes. They are black.

6.) Do you live in a zoo?

it feels like it. But we are zoo members.

7.) What did you do this morning?

Took Zoe to school. Drank a lot of coffee. Blogged. Did paperwork.

8.) What does your mom do for a living?

editor. she reads papers from seminary scholars that I cannot even come close to understanding.

9.) Where do you work?

Home. Arbonne. Go Shop Online. I need to pay for my trainer tomorrow.

10.) What are your favourite smells?

clean Zoe, clean sheets, Buffalo Grill's Toasted Cinnamon coffee, Elvis' cheeks after he shaves.

11) What are the last two digits of your phone number?

09

12.) What was the last concert you attended?

Reuben V. Not really a concert, but close enough.

13.) Who was with you?

Paul. Tammie. My first SA friends.

14.) What was the last movie you watched?

Dreamgirls. The American Idol chick steals it.

15.) What do you dislike at the moment?

The Disney Channel. Cancer. My slippers.

16.) What food do you crave right now?

a coke slurpee

17.) Did you dream last night?

Yes. I dreamt the refrigerator door fell off.

18.) What was the last TV show you watched?

Sopranos on DVD

19.) What is your favorite piece of jewelry?

Big time tie. The blinged "D" necklace that Zoe got me for Christmas. The earrings Elvis' mom gave me. And the black pearl earrings that my parents bought me when they went on the cruise I won and then gave to them. I also love the earrings Sis #1 gave me when Zoe was born.

20.) Name someone on your Top 8 who is just like you?

Deanna Banana

22.) Who is your best friend of the opposite sex?

Elvis

23.) Who last IMed you?

Deanna Banana

24.) Are you on any medication?

Too many to name

25.) What side of the bed do you sleep on?

wherever I can fit...Zoe usually hog it up. If I am alone I hog up the center

26.) What color shirt are you wearing?

white

27) What color is your razor?

hot pink

28.) What is your favorite frozen treat?

Skinny Cows Ice Cream Sammich

29.) How many tattoos/piercing do you have?

Pierced ears. Zoe freaked out b/c she just found out I have 2 holes in one ear and 3 in the other. Although I usually only wear one set of earrings

30.) What are your favorite stores?

Super Target, Tiffanys, Pottery Barn Kids, Central Market, Barnes and Noble, Half Price Books, Academy, James Avery

31.) Are you thirsty right now?

yes. I need a coke slurpee

32.) Can you imagine yourself ever getting married?

Yes. I can *imagine* it.

33.) Who's someone you haven't seen in a while and miss?

Meerkat. D1. Paige. My old bosses at my last job.

34.) What did you do last night?

Hung out with Elvis at Casa_debu. Ate pea soup with family.

35.) Do you care what people think about you?

nah. I'm Dr. Seuss about it.

36.) Have you ever done something to instigate trouble?

just like my meds. too many to name

37) Do you like your nose?

it's boring. but ok

38) What color is your room?

yellow? I don't remember

39.) When was the last time you worked out?

yesterday. slow, but 45 minutes of cardio

41.) Do you like pedicures?

yep. but I'm super ticklish

42.) Where do you live?

San Antonio. Home of the wonky driver and the crispy taco.

43.) Are you an aggressive driver?

nope. They named me Granny Deb

44.) Who is your cell phone carrier?

Sprint

45.) Do you like the person who posted this last?

Yes, DeAnna is good peeps

46.) Do you know their Birthday?

Sometime in November. She's adancin fool for it

47.) What is the thing you'd want to change most about yourself?

Have flatter abs. Me no likey my flabs of steel

48.) What color is your car?

Dark Grey

49.) What do you smell like right now?

Arbonne and meds. Apple.

50.) What is your favorite color?

orange

51.) Do you like mustard?

Not any more. Only in potato salad, and then only a little

52.) What do you tell yourself when times get hard?

I can do this. I have a daughter that speaks bird

53.) Would you ever sky dive?

Newp. I don't have enough life insurance.

54.) What do you sleep on?

yellow sheets. threadcount unknown.

56.) Have you ever bid for something on ebay?

no. but I wanted to sell space on my dome for advertising once.

57.) What do you think of Angelina Jolie being pregnant?

is she? When she was, she was all skinny.

58.) Do you enjoy giving hugs?

Oh yes. I need daily hugs too.

59.) Would you consider yourself to be fashionable?

oh hell no. Although I have really good taste.

60.) Do you own a digital camera?

no, but I wish I did. Although I have access to my dad's, but don't know how to upload photos.

61.) What celebrities have you been compared to?

Monica Lewinsky. Scarily so.

63.) What does your 19th text message say?

Not getting my phone to look. Besides I'm talking to Elvis.

64.) How about your 30th?

"I love you that plus 12." The 19th said, "Tell your mom to turn on NBC." (Ok, so I looked. I need to delete these)

65.) Who did you hang out with last night?

My folks. Zoe. And Elvis.

66.) What are you doing this Saturday?

11am trainer appointment. Then swimming with Zoe and Elvis. Maybe girl scout cookie sales.

Link back to me if you do the questionnaire. I'm curious about my readers now. Y'all lurk way too much.

The Wiz

My MT is jacked up. That is the blog software that I use to update and edit my blog.

I can't upload pictures. And I'm still getting spammed like a fried spam sammich. When I try to delete, edit, or publish comments, it takes forever. Me no know how to fixie. And the "help" is of no help. I'm good at a lot of things, but MT is not one of them. I'm too skeered to switch to something else either. I don't want to lose my entire blog.

Help me Obi MT Kenobi. You're my only hope.

I've lost 3 lbs. Random. I want muscle, so I don't care about my scale. Elvis said my arms are looking like guns. Any suggestions on reducing the armage and leaning them out? There's muscle, but it's still overpowered by the nearly 40-year-old-arm-fat. They are giggle-ey and fat. And big. Still it's better than weak. That's all I gots to say about that. I'm intense now.

I'm also more freaked about the procedure I have to have next week as my oncologist said it's either going to result in a "no big deal," or a "really big deal" kind of thing. Freaking abnormal cells. He also was kind of irritated that my Box Doc's office waited 3 months to call me about them. If I wasn't so freaked out, I'd find some other doc, but I need to get this done ASAP.

Have I ever told you all that I hate cancer? I hate the "what ifs." I hate to think that I am feeling good and working out and that I'm liking my life only to think that I might have to go through a relapse, or a new cancer or a bunch of new doctor crap. Cancer can suck donkey balls. I am going to will this to go well. I'm going to take the universe's prayers and think that my abnormal cells are nothing. Either way, I've decided that no matter what happens with this, I am not going to let it stop me. F*ck cancer. F*ck you right up your stupid multiplying cells.

I have a good post in me. I just don't have the time currently.

Also, does anyone know where I'm getting the comments from an old post about that lame Christmas Shoes song? It's like these posters are all about 14 years old. Angry and can't spell. All fake email address I'm supposing too. First started with this weiner, Jessica....

your a jerk that is the best song. if your mom was dying you wouldnt want her to have something good to pass away with. i dont no what your problem is but ummm. that is a good song.

from,
the person who thinks your a jerk

Posted by: jessica at December 13, 2006 06:24 PM

Sorry, but that song still sucks. And if I were dying, I'd still prefer an Arby's roast beef sammich to a pair of pretty shoes to meet Jesus in. After going through what I've been through, I've realized sadly that heels are overrated. Give me comfort with style vs. pain with style anyday.

Yesterday, I watched a bunch of chicks at my gym walk in heels and they can barely walk. They look ridiculous. Heels were made to make you walk sexier, not walk like a knarly truckdriver or like you have a stick up your cornholio. I'm built for speed, not pain.

Besides, wouldn't you rather have your kid near you if you were dying than out shopping without enough money? The artist that wrote that song reminds me of those country artists that create patriotic songs just to sell records. Or to proove their patriotism (makes me think of Willie Nelson in Wag the Dog). I think they should be forced to give all the profits of those songs to military families.

Same as I think that if you use the Pink to sell your product, you should be forced to give at least 50% or more to breast cancer research. I'm irritated about this. So is she. She says it far better than I do. I think she's my new favorite blog. I like sassy cancer survivors.

I love MT, but it doesn't love me.

I can do this. I'd be better without the wonky MT, but I will still do this. I have guns. And y'all. And Zoe, who speaks bird.

Your assignment today is to tell me what irritates you. Am I the only crankypants lately?

*waves to Elvis* I miss you today, you roadtripper, you.

For Sis #1

People... Make this Happen!!!

Seriously... Sis #1 is awesome. I believe in the power of the internets.

Safe Journey Joseph. Safe Journey Harriet

I stopped asking for your prayers for all of my Leukemia forum friends because there are more and more every day that relapse or die. I read each day of Joseph's fight. Then I read about Harriet. Tonight I type this again through tears. I hate cancer.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 10, 2007 05:28 PM, CST Dearest friends and family, For all my supposed eloquence, words fail me now.

Joseph Anthony Morrison....Born May 26, 1993

Earned his angel wings January 10, 2006 at 4:58 PM.

Thank you for everything. Everything.

His story.

Hariet Raffo. In lieu of flowers Harriet wished for donations to Shands Hospital UF, Bone Marrow Transplant Unit, 4th Fl. P.O. Box 100306, Gainesville, Fl 32610. Your prayers were answered in a spiritual way in that Harriet passed away peacefully with the entire family present. God Bless, Tom

Harriet's site.

Puh-Caw

On the way home from the gym the other day, Zoe saw some big birds at the stoplight. She rolls down the window and says, "Puh-Caw, Puh-Caw, Puh-Caw."

"Zoe. What *are* you doing?" I ask.

"I speak bird," she replies.

She was also wearing her McDonalds pedometer. I wear mine nearly all the time. It says 36522 right now. I'm kicking my own butt at the gym. I want to sell some more Arbonne to pay for my trainer. He's getting me into shape big time.

I can do this. My daughter speaks bird.

I have no assignment for today. It's gorgeous outside and I'm off to a Brownie meeting where my mom is giving a talk to Zoe's troop about scouting. Tomorrow is Mom's birthday. I have absolutely no idea what to get her. How can you buy something for someone who gave you life? And then saved it several times over?

Elvis. He is just wonderful.

Happy New Year

With a kiddo like this, how could 2007 not be a good year?

Funky Friday

I'm feeling better. I was up at 4:30am because I slept most of yesterday away. I woke up because I was so thirsty, since I had lots of crackers and am feeling carbloated. I need coffee. And Sixbucks is getting expensive, so I've been brewing my own at home. Not quite as fun.

I'm in a weird mood. And I don't know why. I feel like a wrecking ball is poised over me. Like a shadow is following me. And I'm trying really hard to shake it, but it's catching up.

This year I will be 1. February 27, 2007, I will be one year from transplant. That's a few days after the Debu_Dad's birthday, so I think we will have a big ol' party. And yes, you are invited.

And this year I will also be 40. July 22, 2007, I will be 40 years old. I don't feel like it, but somehow it feels like a gloomy countdown.

I get this urge to run.

I can do this. I just need to shake the funk. Or take a vacation. I think Kami and I need to take a cruise. I think all the blog-sisters (and a few bros too) need to hop on a boat and sail away for a while. I have connections. I just need to pull the trigger.

Your assignment today is to go visit Amanda and send her some B-love. I loves me some Amanda.

I miss my sisters. And I miss my Shoshie sisters.

I Can Do This

If I can stop having the trots... yay! (sorry, TMI)

I am sick. Just the chills, no fever, and I have bad dia-of-the-rear. I think some stomach flu thingy that has been going around. I'm just trying not to get dehydrated. But I have really bad stomach cramps and I'm trying hard not to barf. I'm also very hungry. Weird.

I'm very bummed too because I was very stud-like about going to my gym. I forgot how much I love working out and my PTM (Robert, my trainer) is great. He's tough but patient. I even got a shirt for my workouts:

FRONT:

BACK:

I wore it yesterday and I felt like a warrior or something. I was like... yeah, yeah, yeah... you little people and uber aerobicized women are here to work out and look pretty. I'm here because I survived. Because I faced it and kicked its sorry ass.

I can do this. I just need to stop feeling invincible.

My OBGYN, Dr. Cox's office, (yes, you can laugh at his name) called me today. I had a pap smear (I always think of bagel with schmere) back in October. They do it and then give you this number and code to call, but tell you if something is wrong they will call asap.

Guess January is asap, huh?

The girl called this morning. Apparently I have some abnormal cells on my schmere. I'm trying not to panic, but after all the poison they put in me and the radiation, I'm silently freaking out. Like bad.

Asap. Thanks ginourmous a-holes.

I am not ready to deal with this.

Mom... I have to go to the bathroom really really bad

....said just before the explosive barfing started in my car on the way home from Houston.

Elvis and I went to see my sister at the Texans vs. Browns game on New Years Eve. SHE WON the Ultimate Texans Fan Contest!!! Thanks for those of you who voted and re-voted. We had such a great time. The seats were awesome and the stadium was really loud. And my Boys actually won. Elvis and I kept calling the opposing team the Doo Doo Browns.

Sis #1 got to run out of the field holding one of the TEXANS flags (she was the X). I was so proud that she won. She really deserved it. I wish I had a closeup of her outfit. It was so extra cool (Cape with fringe, mini-skirt, sequined jersey, shiny belt, and a purse that said, "I'm a Texan.") She looked great! (pics from Andy Martin of www.TexansBullPen.com)

We went to a friends for NYE and it was great to see some of my awesome H-town friends.

But then Zoe got a fever. Lots of Tylenol and a little motrin. We were headed home when she horked up her pancakes. Elvis came to the rescue. He was so sweet with her. But I do owe him a pack of t-shirts from the cleanup. We got home and she slept a lot. I went to check on her and her fever was up to 103.9. So I took her to the clinic (every place was closed). She tested negative for the flu and strep, but the pediatrician said that she was going to treat it like the flu as her symptoms were so similar.

They call in some prescriptions and we go to pick them up. I start up my car to head home and the engine wouldn't even turn over. Thank goodness for the Walgreens clerk and the jumper cables in my SUV. It was cold, we were hungry and Zoe was feeling miserable.

Overall, it really was a sweet weekend. I had my Elvis. I had my Zoe. And I got to see every single member of my family over the holidays.

I can do this. It's 2007 - The Year of the Deb.

Your assignment today is to review your 2006. What would you want to do differently? What were you proud of? What joys did you find? And what sadness brought you to tears? It's good to review. It's good to move forward.

Elvis. He is a keeper. Any man who can clean up pancake barf and still be sweet about it and not flinch... well... he is someone that you want to have around for a while.