Dear 2012: It's not me, it's you.

Well 2012, I think it's just about time we call it quits.

I can't say my entire relationship with you has been terrible, but the last 4+ months, you've been a real piece of shit. Sure, you've provided me with an appreciation beyond words for my mom, dad, brother, family and friends who have been there for me since you decided to flip our worlds upside down. My distaste for the crappy cards you've dealt my family with has left me with a heightened sense of awareness for the people who keep me going. The people who remind me that tomorrow is another day, that what I'm feeling is justified, and that it's okay not to be okay. And the people who give me rides to and from the airport, buy me wonderful dolls for Christmas, share with me the fact that it is unacceptable to leave the house without mascara, promise to learn how to french braid my hair, and eat cardboard sandwiches with me for lunch. 

Though you have turned your back on me and proven that you are actually a real asshole, you have also taught me that I should definitely keep judging people to continue to form inaccurate first impressions about them such as: snobby, terrifying, threatening, annoying, etc. Because those are the people who actually turn out to be insightful sources of support, lifecoaches, long lost sisters, and those who understand me like nobody else ever will. 

I can't say I'm not appreciative for the realization I've come to--only toward the end of our relationship--about how I will never be able to please everyone. Somewhere along the way, someone is going to have a problem with me, and that's going to have to be fine. But if I waste too much time and energy worrying about something so petty, I'll most likely be overlooking some of the better things in life, like family, friends, and John Stamos, who is very manly. One day, I'll look back and realize that none of that stuff really mattered anyway.

While I do not appreciate the sadness you've caused me over the last few months as you've slowly taken bits and pieces of my mom away from me, I do appreciate that the larger portion of her still remains. It does not, however, make me any less angry with you knowing that you've been much less kind in this regard with people that I love and care about very much. 

You've also made me realize that nothing will ever be the same anymore, and that even though I am ready for you to be gone, I know that what's yet to come will provide even more pain and anger than I can imagine at this time. You have put a dent in me comparable in size to the one in the back of A-Woww's minivan, but I know what's further down the road will make the dent seem almost unnoticable in comparison to the impending damage that lies somewhere in the distance. 

The worst part about this is knowing that some day, I know I'm really going to want you back. I'm going to be so pissed that I didn't appreciate you for what you were. I'm going to wish on every red light that I run (stars are for wimps) that I could just come back to you for even one day. 

I want to thank you, though, for the things that you have brought into my life. Thank you for all the people you have provided who have reached out to support myself and family. Thank you for bringing friends into my life (or keeping friends who were already there) who can remind me that even when everything goes down the crapper, they will still be there for me. Thank you for allowing my brother to graduate from Penn State without the world ending...though I was kind of banking on that. Thank you for not just taking my mom or anyone else away from us in one fell swoop, and allowing me to soak up and appreciate some moments that I will not soon forget. 

I'm sure you are going to make someone else really happy (in the next 3 and a half hours), but you have broken my heart and this just isn't working. 

So I guess this is goodbye forever.

Please don't call or write, and don't expect to hear from me either, unless I'm drunk. 

"Come visit me. Bring me Taco Bell and vodka."

On July 26th, 2012 at 10 AM, the naive kid who still relied on mom and dad (Jazazzle and Phil) to fix my wounds and make everything better went away forever.

My priorities have changed, along with my overall outlook on life. I've learned the value of getting rid of the negativity from my life, and I've also learned the value of people who have kept my wheels turning (though the tires may have been half flat) and have stepped up to the plate with no expectation or obligation to do so.

Regardless of all the ways I've inevitably had to change and grow up, on thing remains constant: the value of laughing until I have muscle fatigue secondary to euphoria. Every person who stands out in my mind as being an integral piece of my life puzzle that is currently being held together with scotch tape and chewing gum has the ability to switch back and forth between serious and sarcastic and back again.

The people who have kept me laughing and understand my humor don't just mean the world to me...they also mean a whole hell of a lot to my mom. Because she wants us to live our lives, and she wants us to find reasons to laugh, every day, as much as possible. Does she appreciate when we are laughing about things she says sometimes? Hell to the no, not all the time. But would she sit there and take us laughing at her expense if it meant those seconds weren't used up being sad? I like to think so.

So to the people who crack me up so much that it causes me physical pain, thank you so much. To the people who understand when I just need to vent but then can resume calling me names or making fun of me within minutes, that is exactly what I need in my life. I am so thankful to have you all in my life. You have been and continue to be Godsends.

I hope you all are having a wonderful Easter, because my mom sure seems to be. ;)

My Dysfunctional Christmas Letter

When I think of Christmas time, there are 3 things that come to mind: 1. people talking about peace on earth and good will toward men after they spent Black Friday fighting with people over reasonably priced electronics. 2. The annual Christmas party at our fake family's house. and 3. the Christmas letters that family friends send out every year to give people a glimpse of their "year in review." I'm sure not quite as exciting as a week in review, or for some over achievers, a day in review, but some people have other things going on. Or just didn't think of it.

This year, instead of highlighting my many, many, many accomplishments, I'd like to point out some of my failures. I want my Christmas letter to stand out, and they didn't make the neon colors in stationary (or is it sanitary?) paper that I had originally planned on using, so I'm going to have to put another spin on this.

First off, and as many of you have been made aware, I failed to learn how to properly fill my bicycle tires with air. There I was, standing up to pedal down a flat, beautiful, Florida countryside road that just borders the ghetto, wondering why I didn't pay closer attention to the Google search results that explained what gear to use on flat surfaces. "Surely this could not be as difficult as it seems to be," I thought to myself. I completed my long and strenuous journey and returned my 24" childrens bike to its place in the garage. After I caught my breath, I asked my roommate if he could please inspect my children's bike to see if there was something wrong with it. He came back into the house a few minutes later and asked if I had put it together myself. I told him I did not, and he told me he was just wondering, because there wasn't any air in the tires. To my credit, this is half a lie, because the tires were only half flat. I have similar difficulties when it comes to filling my car tires, because at one point when I went to fill them, they only had 10 psi. Anyone need a mechanic??

My second failure of the year is also related to the Great Bicycle Adventure, and it involves 2 very polite gentlemen who offered to fix my clearly flat (At that point, I had familiarized myself with what flat bicycle tires looked like) tire after the lovely Wal Mart associate explained to me that "the bike guy is off today." While these 2 gentelmen were fixing my bike in the parking lot (during the day, I might add), I sent a picture to my lifecoach and told her it sure was nice to know that there are still good people in the world. I can't quote exactly what her response was, but it was something along the lines of  "OMG, you're going to get yourself killed." I asked her why, and she told me the part of town I was in where said bicycle was being fixed was so dangerous, that if I would have called her and told her that I was there (even though I was only a few miles from where I live), she would have driven 45 minutes to drive me back home. I told her I'd have to get back to her, because my new friends offered me a ride in their big white van that had no windows. (Come on jerks, I'm not THAT bad!)

Another failure is that I don't have a great sense of time. I'm pretty sure these bicycle adventures didn't even happen over the course of this past year. But would you really had known if I hadn't mentioned it? No. If I was writing a Christmas letter listing my many, many, many accomplishments, I would tell you about how honest I am.

Anyway, back to my failures...

I also did not get elected President of the United States of America, or any other country for that matter. I consider this to be among my greatest of failures for the year. I really thought I had this one, guys. I know at least one person who wrote my name in...but enough about my 2012 election ballot...

I failed at pretty much all aspects of my dating career, so from now on any eligible young (but not too young) bachelor (this means you are not married or dating anyone, just to clarify) who would like to ask me on a date (or be paid under the table to take me out to a fast food chain) should send applications to my lifecoach. She will be overseeing the screening process.

I also failed to listen to my lifecoach for 50% of the year. The other 50%, I was driving her BS crazy with ridonkulousness.

I also failed to meet John Stamos. This makes year 27.

As of December 17th, I have failed to keep my sinuses un-infected. I was so very close to not having this to include in my letter. Bummer.

I failed to send out thank you cards to the many people who deserve them for their support and kindness since my mom's diagnosis. I hope they see this, so they know that I've been using my time for something VERY productive.

I failed to look bad when running my first and second 5K. I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it. I just looked way too good.

While my list of failures could go on and on, the main purpose of this blog is to remind myself how happy I am. Being a jackass and knowing that people still support me and some of them even assist me in doing so gives me peace of mind that those who may not know me as well could quite possibly mistake for a cry for help or a really crappy day. Please rest assured, this is who I am. I am happiest when I can be sarcastic and laugh with people who understand my twisted sense of humor.

One thing I have not failed at in 2012 is recognizing how many people have come together to support myself and my family through this difficult year. Thank you all, so so much. Some of you have never even met me personally but love my mom enough to reach out to us and to check in on how she's doing. In many ways, I am a jackass because of my mom. Because she's never tried to make me anybody in particular, she has always just accepted me for who I am. And who I am....is a donkey. A Polish Christmas Donkey.




Chingity Ching (hee haw, hee haw).......

"Wherever you go, go with all your heart."

To my big-headed baby brother,

Where does the time go? It's hard to believe you're graduating from Penn State in a week. It seems like just yesterday I was home for your High School graduation, where you almost didn't receive your diploma because you refused to take off your Mickey Mouse mortarboard I had brought you from Disney. The only kid in his graduating class wearing Chucks and rodent ears...in your defense, they were, as you called them, your "dress-up chucks."

I don't know why any of us were surprised. You've always gone against the grain, despite what is considered "mainstream." When other kids went to the bathroom in a toilet, you used the yard or peoples' driveways. When other kids asked their parents to buy them toy dinosaurs, you just stole them from the Farleys and dropped them in your sweatpants, allowing the elastic band around the ankles to catch the contraband. When other high school students were going to Cancun or the Bahamas when they were on break from school, you went to Haiti on a mission trip. When other students chose traditional black and white tuxedoes with a hint of color to wear to prom, you wore a purple vest and striped orange socks. When other college students chose to study abroad in places like Spain or Australia, you chose Ghana. When a lot of students would have chosen to spend their last college summer at home drinking their faces off and making really terrible life choices, you went to Maine to work on a farm.

I am so sorry that on the day of your graduation, mom may not remember all these things that have helped to shape the man you have become. I hope you know in your heart, as you walk up to get your degree in whatever the hell your major is at this point, all the things that mom would want you to know if she was able to remember to tell you. Some of those things, she'll tell you herself that day. But others, she may not recall.

I'm sure she wants you to know, first and foremost, how proud she is of the man you have become. (I want you to know that I'd be prouder if you would have picked a major that I could remember.) She wants you to know that no matter what your older sister tells you, she could never, ever choose a favorite...because you are her baby boy, and while I certainly deserve a very large amount of credit for making her a parent (I want you to know that it's a VERY large amount), you made her complete. You made us all complete, as a family. She wants you to know that no matter what you choose to do from here on out, you're going to change the world. You already have, just by being in it. (I want you to know that it was never specified whether you've changed it for better or worse.) She wants you to know that no matter how old you are, you're never too grown up for Vanilla Milk. (I want you to know that I can't disagree with this statement.) She wants you not to be afraid to do things your way and follow your heart, whether it's mainstream or not. (But I want you to remember that time you insisted you hated OAR when I liked them, but then a few years later, you all of a sudden were a huuuuge fan. Don't do sh!t like that again please.) She wants you to make decisions that make you happy, and she doesn't want you to ever settle for anything less than you deserve (but I want you to know that you shouldn't be too picky, because you really don't deserve too much.) Finally (though I'm sure this doesn't begin to pinpoint everything), she wants you to know that no matter where you go or what you do, she'll always be with you and you'll always be with her...because, as she keeps telling us, "even when we're not together, you're in my heart always. I love you bunches and bunches and bunches and bunches....."

All kidding sisterly commentary aside, we are all so proud of you, buddy. Love you so much, I don't know what I'd do without you. You are the best brother and friend in the whole wide universe.

But seriously, are you taking care of yourself?

"I solved more problems running than I ever did in the office."

Two days ago, I ran a 5K. For the first time in my life, I voluntarily signed up for an event that involved running. I'm not exactly sure yet if I enjoy running, or if I enjoy the feeling I get after I'm done running. Or the fact that I get to wear really fantastic outfits while doing so. But I realized the other night that there's more to it than just that. (Please note that when I say "run", I probably mean "jog.")

It's the idea of working toward something tangible. Right now, everything in my life seems to be upside down and not anywhere within my control. When I'm running, I have complete control of my body. When I started running with my uncle while I was still in Pittsburgh with my mom, he told me I'd eventually get to a point where I could just get lost in my thoughts and I'd start to work through whatever problem I was facing at that moment. He said he solved more problems when he was training for a marathon then he ever did while he was actually at work. Once I get past the part where I feel like I'm going to pass out, ask myself why the hell I thought this was a good idea, and figure out how to catch my breath, there's something that happens to my brain that tells it maybe, just maybe, I don't hate this as much as I keep trying to convince myself.

Or maybe I do. What the hell do I know?

Regardless of how I feel when the actual run is taking place, the after effect is worth whatever agony I seem to feel at the moment. Maybe it's because I'm no longer naive enough to think that agony, pain, suffering, etc. has anything to do with physical activity that, in the long run, is usually more beneficial than not. Maybe it's because I'm not fighting god damn cancer, so I can sure as sh!t run 3.1 miles. Maybe it's because I think I should do everything that someone with cancer might not be able to do. When I told my mom I had run a 5k, she said "I should really get out and run more."

That's pain. Dull at times, but always present somewhere beneath the surface. Knowing that while I'm processing the transition from a healthy, outgoing, active woman to a cancer patient with what she calls the "Estelle Getty shuffle" and "rugrat look," my mom is unable to understand. Because she can't remember that she can barely walk for 5 minutes without feeling tired, let alone run a 5K. But God, what I wouldn't give....

When my friend and I had crossed the finish line, she said "Man, I really wish my mom was here." Then she paused for a second before looking at me and saying "I know, you feel the same way." Not only is this friend great because she participated in this event with me and didn't punk out, but also because she never tries to over-understand. She doesn't get on her soap box and talk about how the situation relates to her or what she would do if she were me. She just strings a bunch of big, smart-sounding words together and forms inspirational sentences. She also likes bananas and socks with the fur.

I must have been inspired, because on the day of the 5K, I also signed up for a recreational soccer league here in Orlando that will start in January. I miss playing, and I need to find activities that involve human interaction...otherwise, it's too easy to shut the world out and crawl into a hole. Besides, my mom always loved watching me play soccer, and brain cancer or not, mother's intuition tells her if I'm full of sh!t when I confirm that I am, in fact, taking care of myself. The other plan is to run at least one 5K per month. Then, at the end of the year, maybe I'll take all the T-shirts and make a blanket out of them all. Hahaha make a blanket...just kidding, but I'll find someone who knows how to sew and pay them in jellybeans to make me a blanket.

"It's just a bad day, not a bad life."

I made the mistake of taking advantage of the stalker-friendly Facebook timeline, where you can pull up whatever month/year you want on someone's page to see all the postings. I've had a few "I want my mommy" moments this week, and it is times like those where I miss her the most and have the most difficult time dealing with all this.

I remembered that on Mothers Day just this year, she posted something for Neal and me, but also for the women who have had a hand at raising us and contributed to the people we have become. While it made me sad to remember how fast this has all happened, it also made me feel a sense of peace, knowing that she has always known we are well taken care of.

My mom has made it known every day that Neal and I are her number one concern. Regardless of how lucid she is from one day to the next, the request that we take care of ourselves and that we "always remember and never forget" how much she loves us still stands.

Yesterday was one of those days where, from the second I got out of bed, I just couldn't seem to push this all to the back of my mind and get through the day without thinking about how sh!tty this is. I texted one of my stupendous friends and told her I sometimes kind of wish the world would really just end in December, because once this is all over (hopefully years and years from now, but the realistis part of me knows better) the world, as I know it, will have ended anyway. People keep telling me nothing will ever be the same, and that I will never be the same. How could I? Our parents are such a huge part of who we are, and I don't think I will be able to go anywhere or do anything without small reminders of them, because in one way or another, they have touched upon everything I have done in my life. I assume it will be something like a plate that breaks into pieces on the ground, you can glue it back together, but it will never be the same again. But also, just buy a new plate. Nobody wants to eat from a glued-together plate, and plates aren't that expensive.

My friend texted me back and acknowledged that she's sure it WILL be very difficult, but that eventually I'll learn to carry on and put my own life back in order and move forward, because my mom loves me so much and wants me to live a happy life. I'll be able to do that, because everything I do will be for her. My favorite thing about this friend, besides the fact that she sometimes says dumb stuff by accident, is that she never tries to pretend like she knows exactly what I'm going through. In fact, she usually prefaces any advice she gives me with "I know I've never been in your situation, but..." I appreciate her inspirational words of wisdom, that she gets from google, more than she probably knows.

My LC told me during one of my meltdowns that while the situation sucks, spending all my time and energy thinking about that fact isn't going to do me any good. She said that the situation is already depressing enough, it's only going to stress me out and cause me to have a breakdown if I just worry about it all the time. She's right, and I try so hard to listen to her, but as she knows, sometimes I slip up and forget everything she has told me.

I am so appreciative of these friends, but also all the others who have helped pick me up on days where this gets me down. I may sound like a broken record, but you guys are truly the best, and I don't know what I would do without you.