I feel like I should rise from my hard, utilitarian, church basement resident folding chair and say to the circle of haggard, exhausted people around me, "Hi, I'm Kathy. I'm a cancer survivor. I've been off chemo for almost two weeks."

At which point my fellow baldies would reply, "Hi Kathy," in an unexcited, battle weary, morale flagging monotone.

I can't blame them for not being excited. It's hard for me to work up the enthusiasm one would think would come part and parcel with such an announcement. Which, I have to say, I find weird. I was sure that by the time I got to this stage, finally being done with the extended mass murder of millions of my cells, healthy and not so healthy, that I would be jumping up and down for joy, thrilled that the extended hell of chemotherapy was done. But I'm not. I'm too tired to party, it seems. I can't even work up the enthusiasm to get one of those little doohickeys that you blow into at New Year's Eve parties, where your breath expands and unrolls a paper funnel and it a emits a cheerful little sound. I just can't be bothered. I'm finally off the roller coaster, for which I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but I'm too discombobulated to be truly thrilled the ride is finally over with.

But at least it's over with. Because, for a while there, the car of the roller coaster stopped five feet short of the platform, and I was unable to get off the stupid thing because of idiotic safety regulations.

If you're interested in the entire, windy, tale, take the jump. If not, feel free to skip. You have my blessing.

more...

Posted by: Kathy at 02:11 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 4619 words, total size 25 kb.

Ok, so the Cake Eater sister, Christi, sent me a bunch of photos from Omaha's Walk to Cure Diabetes over a week ago. She asked me to post them, along with a message of profound and undying thanks to all who donated and who helped out by linking to our cause, because she didn't have the time to do so.

Now you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, may be wondering why she had time to hijack the blog for a week, but did not have time to post her own thanks. Well, let me tell you, I don't know how she managed the time to post in the first place, let alone find the time to fulfill my idiotic request to make videos to make the fundraising "more interesting." Here's a quick rundown of all that she's got going on right now: she's a bridal designer and had to rework a dress for a Labor Day weekend wedding whilst simultaneously preparing for her day job as a teacher's aide. And she's got three kids, who need to be fed and looked after, of course. Not to mention, my brother and his family are in the process of moving back to Omaha and she's been helping them out with the adjustment, as well as helping my mother out with my father's (temporary, Thank God) transition to a vegan (yes, I know.) diet. She's a busy chick. Don't quite know how she manages to get it all done, but, somehow, she does. I really seem quite lame in comparison and my excuse of having a whopping case of chemo brain (and low hemoglobin, too, which really doesn't help with the attention-span problems) doesn't really seem to cut it. She's just one of those people, eh? If she had to go through chemo (which I hope she never does) she wouldn't be one to slack at all. I'm sure of it. She's the good kid. I'm the bad seed. Well, I'm not entirely bad, but I'm not her, that's for sure.

That said, I would indeed like to pass along our most heartfelt thanks to all who donated and to our blogger friends, who not only linked to our little project, but who also put in a lot of time and effort to make cakes as incentives. You are all awesome people. Thanks to you, we are *that* much closer to finding a cure, so James can snarf all the Snickers he wants, whenever he wants. Thank you, oh, so much.

And, now, the pictures!

The man goof of the hour---James!

All of the really cool people who got up at the crack of dawn on a really hot and humid August Saturday morning to walk three miles to cure diabetes. These people rock. I wish I could have been there. Really I do.

And this is the Krist family, of which James is but one member. Christi and James should be recognizable by now, but you may not know Jeff, the patriarch of this here clan; Colin, my Godbaby and recent convert to the cult of the long haired hippie children; and Maggie, the girliest girl this side of the Mississippi River (and the orneriest, too.). It, apparently, wouldn't be a complete walk experience without a family picture in front of a giant inflatable coke bottle, now would it?

Thanks again, my devoted Cake Eater readers. We couldn't have gotten this far without you!

Posted by: Kathy at 10:54 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 584 words, total size 4 kb.

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Ooooh, lookie. Mike Rowe's painting the Mackinac Bridge a pretty shade of green.

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with all due apologies to Jeff G. for stealing his schtick. Again. For, like, the fortieth time. Because, seriously, I got bupkiss right now. Let alone gray matter.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:23 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 70 words, total size 1 kb.

So, I'm flipping around the boob tube this evening and I came across an ad for this documentary, which is airing on The Learning Channel later this month. The name of the documentary is Crazy Sexy Cancer.

Crazy Sexy Cancer is an irreverent and uplifting documentary about a young woman looking for a cure and finding her life.

In 2003, 31-year-old actress/photographer Kris Carr was diagnosed with a rare and incurable cancer. Weeks later she began filming her story. Taking a seemingly tragic situation and turning it into a creative expression, Kris shares her inspirational story of survival with courage, strength, and lots of humor.

With experimental treatment as her only option, Kris became determined to find answers where there were none. She traveled throughout the country interviewing experts in alternative medicine as she tenaciously dove head first into a fascinating and often hilarious holistic world. Along the way, she met other vivacious young women determined to become survivors. Their stories are as poignant and exciting as the women who tell them. As Kris's amazing journey unfolds, she realizes that healing is about truly living rather than fighting.

Crazy Sexy Cancer is more than a film, it's an attitude! It's about rising to the challenge of life, and no matter what, refusing to give up who you are at your core. This story is as funny as it is frightening, as joyous as it is outrageous. Ultimately, Crazy Sexy Cancer is a thought provoking film about, friendship, love and growing up.

Now, I don't want to get down on anyone telling their tale of survival over this beast of a disease. If I'm allowed, so are they. What I am going to go postal on, however, is the name of this documentary. Crazy Sexy Cancer?

What the fuck?

If you look at the title, and, just for fun, decided to diagram it, "cancer" would be your noun and "sexy" and "crazy" your adjectives. Adjectives, as any first grader could tell you, are meant to "enhance" your noun. Adjectives are meant to make a simple noun, like, say, "cancer," more descriptive. As far as our two adjectives here, "Crazy" is simple enough. It doesn't describe cancer in a technical way, but it does describe it, nonetheless. What I don't get, and won't ever get is how you could possibly describe cancer as "sexy." I ask you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, what could possibly be sexy about cancer? Cancer is, by definition, abnormal cell growth. Tumors. Stuff that shouldn't be there. Can tumors be sexy? Is there such a thing as MRI pr0n? Step right up, get your Pet Scan jollies right over here?

I think we all know what they're going for, and it isn't to highlight how sexy tumors are. It's rather about empowerment. It's about taking control of your disease, if you happen to be afflicted with this particular malady. It is, in essence, about highlighting all that Girl Power crap the Spice Girls foisted on us ten years ago. That's all well and good, but the inclusion of the word "sexy" in the title of this film, well, it just freakin' offends me. I can't tell you how much it makes my blood boil to hear cancer described as "sexy," let alone to receive the message that I, as a cancer patient, can be "sexy." Well whoop-de-freakin'-do. Thank you ever so bloody much. As if being "sexy" was the most important thing right now; as if sexiness is the only thing my soon-to-be renewed existence was meant to revolve around.

Cancer ain't sexy.

Being a cancer patient ain't sexy.

There is absolutely nothing sexy about the entire experience.

Is it sexy when you're recovering from having a tumor the size of a baseball cut out of you and you can barely wipe your own ass effectively because you're so weak and the IV tubing keeps getting in the way? Is that sexy? Is it sexy when you vomit bile and are unable to eat? Is it sexy when you can't walk four blocks to the grocery store for an entire month? Is it sexy when you're stuck for five hours at a time in a recliner at the oncologist's office, receiving the most toxic drugs a body can handle without dying (and even then some people do) intravenously? Are anemia and neutropenia---my two current maladies due to the chemo---sexy? Are blood disorders hot nowadays?

What the fuck?

None of these things are sexy. Nor do they have a flaming thing to do with sex appeal. It's cancer for chrissakes. IT'S NOT A SEXY EXPERIENCE. It's not meant to be. For God's sake, not everything that happens to you during this lifetime is meant to revolve around what makes someone happy in the pants. Furthermore, to try and sell it as a 'sexy' experience, or rather one wherein you, the victim of this disease, can still, reportedly, feel sexy is to cheapen the entire process. Because, as I've come to appreciate, you get cancer for a reason. That reason may be, in strict scientific terms, that you can't fight off tumors because of one genetic defect or another. Or it could be more metaphysical. It might just be that you got cancer because God thought you could handle it. That He decided there were lessons in this life that you were meant to learn and you could only do so by enduring this experience. I don't know, but if the only lesson I was meant to learn during this whole ordeal was that I could still be sexy while I'm as bald as a goddamn egg and sick as a dog, well, I'm going to be pissed off.

Cancer is not something Madison Avenue needs to sell. It's already being sold to one in three people around this world, and it's selling like hotcakes, I tell ya. Every damn day of every damn year. No one needs to hire an ad agency to sell cancer. The sales figures are doing just fine, thank you ever so much.

I wish the filmmaker well. I really do. I don't want to shit on her experience or what she learned during her experience with cancer. I'll tune in when the film airs. But she could have come up with a better title.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:04 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 1057 words, total size 6 kb.

Here's what it looks like when you receive chemo.

Comfy recliner notwithstanding, as you might guess, I've had a pretty shitty week so far.

You should really try and make me feel better by helping James out with a donation to his Walk to Cure Diabetes team.

If your donation is $50 or greater, you'll get a free Gooey Cake out of the deal, too.

AND IT'S TAX DEDUCTIBLE, MY DEVOTED CAKE EATER READERS!

{Ed. Oh, don't look at me like that. I warned you that a guilt sledge was probably coming your way. Don't be surprised that I actually wielded it.}

Posted by: Kathy at 09:26 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 114 words, total size 1 kb.

1 You are looking HAWT girlfriend, especially with those hot little legs of yours. ;-) That room looks a whole lot like the room I go to for my iron infusions. Thanks for the picture.

Posted by: c.a. Marks at August 07, 2007 10:09 AM (T7eG4)

2 "hot little legs" Snort! They could only be hot if cellulite is your thing.

Posted by: Kathy at August 07, 2007 11:42 AM (ufifB)

3 Thanks for the picture. I think you're looking pretty f'n good, myself.

Posted by: Margi at August 07, 2007 01:32 PM (DwLKz)

4 Somehow I just can't get the words "chemo pron" out of my head.

Posted by: Robbo the Llama Butcher at August 07, 2007 02:12 PM (0JsTF)

5 "chemo pr0n?" Oh, good lord, Robbo! ;P

Posted by: Kathy at August 07, 2007 08:35 PM (ufifB)

6 c.a. is right. Hawt, girl.

Posted by: Chris Muir at August 07, 2007 08:40 PM (+CRDT)

7 That's my bride.

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at August 08, 2007 10:18 PM (ufifB)

8 Yup,all the good ones are taken, MRN! Hope everything's doing well, my sister's doing her chemo right now. The nice thing is, research/attention is finally starting to focus on cancer.

Posted by: Chris Muir at August 09, 2007 07:35 AM (+CRDT)

9 Good Luck to your sister, Chris. I hope she's getting through it in style. I wish you both nothing but the best. Take care!

Posted by: Kathy at August 09, 2007 03:14 PM (ufifB)

10 Thanks-everyone's in this together,1 in 3 people ...! Time to make the big C a little c. Best wishes,you! C

Posted by: Chris Muir at August 09, 2007 10:05 PM (+CRDT)

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Ok, my devoted Cake Eater readers. Here's an offer you can't possibly refuse.

For every $50 (or more, and we loves it when people contribute more) that is donated to James' Walk to Cure Diabetes effort, Chrissy---marvelous, marvelous, baker extraordinaire Chrissy---will send you one genuine Fiesty Gooey cake, made with her two highly skilled, filled-with-the-spirit-of-Betty-Crocker hands.

How you could possibly refuse that offer, well, I don't know.

C'mon kids. Don't make me pull out the guilt sledge. Throw me a bone here, will ya? I know you're a generous lot. Go and donate what you can and make me proud.

Or the Hebrew Hammer's Mother is going to have nothin' on me when I'm done with you lot.

If you would prefer to avoid that scenario, let me just remind you that you have an out. You can donate $50 (or more. Have I mentioned we really likes the more?) and receive a fresh, homemade cake (CAKE!!!! Cake that Marie Antoinette would gobble up if she had the chance, with very few crumbs left over to slip down into her lifted-and-separated-courtesy-of-a-corset-cleavage.) for your efforts.

I think you know which option will allow you to sleep like a baby at night, eh?

UPDATE: Have I mentioned that any donation made to JDRF is tax deductible? I haven't? Well, it is. You can get a cake and a write-off. What's not to love with that scenario, I ask you, my tax-hating, devoted Cake Eater readers.

UPDATE DEUX: Let me correct that: you can get a tax write-off, a cake and avoid the guilt trip from hell. Again, I ask you, what's not to love with that scenario?

Posted by: Kathy at 09:08 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 289 words, total size 2 kb.

Wow! I finally got this blessed video saved. It took some finagling (how do you spell that word?).

anyway, the following clip is of James and his friends. Kids are really great when it comes to questions. Everyone in the film has known James since the beginning of his illness. Diabetes has been explained to them many times, but they all still have some unanswered questions. So, watch and maybe learn a little something.

If you want to learn more (and maybe more scientific answers) go to the JDRF website

This will be our last post for the hijacking. Thank you all for your patronage, your donations, and your comments. We have had some fun doing this. We hope we have inspired some people out there to get involved. There are so many worthy causes to donate to. We don't really like hitting people up for money. But we know that people donate all the time. If James' story is one that inspires you, we would really appreciate your donation to JDRF.

thank you, Christi and James
to donate

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 10:49 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 185 words, total size 1 kb.

...to announce that the husband, myself and everyone we know is all right and unharmed by the horrific I-35W bridge collapse.

I had more than a few inquiries in the Cake Eater mailbag this morning, so I figured it warranted a general announcement. It's amazing that so many people around the country---and around the world, for that matter---would worry that we were all right. It's good to be able to give positive affirmations in that regard, and I thank you all, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, for your concern. Alas, however, not everyone was so lucky to avoid harm during yesterday's commute home. Say a prayer or offer up a happy thought---or whatever---for those who might not have been as fortunate.

As far as the bridge collapse itself, well, gosh, I can't tell you how many times I've been over that bridge without thinking twice about it. If you're not paying attention, it's possible to cross it without realizing there's actually a river underneath it. It was that high-up. You just don't think about this sort of thing happening here. California? Yes, absolutely. Minnesota? Absolutely-frickin'-not. The shock of this is going to reverberate for quite some time.

But, you know what, because we're Minnesotans, and because we have an ingrained tendency to get on with things, we will get on with things. Have no doubts about it. That bridge will be rebuilt, or there will be at least some substitution in place, sooner than you think.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled JDRF programming. If you can, my devoted Cake Eater readers, make sure you go and donate some moolah, if you find yourself in a position to do so. No amount is too small. We're grateful for every penny donated. Really, we are. We know there are A LOT of causes out there that require attention. That fact is not lost on us at all. If you feel inspired to help James, and other Type I Diabetics, find a cure for this disease, we'd be honored to have your support.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:57 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 359 words, total size 2 kb.

Anyone who knows anyone with Diabetes knows what a pain it is to manage. How all consuming it is. There have been great strides in technology. Imagine not having an accurate way of knowing your blood sugar level. Imagine having to pee on a strip of paper to know whether you are in control. That used to be the standard of care until all the new portable blood glucose meters were invented.

Now imagine how frustrated you are when you are doing everything the doctors tell you. You eat within the rules, you test frequently, you eat at the same time every day, you follow your scale for insulin shots, and your blood sugars are still out of whack! That is the exact frustration most Diabetics face. Especially small children. Their bodies are changing so rapidly, that it doesn't matter how you follow the rules, you can't get "in control". For no reason at all they can be in the 400's for blood sugars. Then 30 minutes later, they will be 50.

So, then the insulin pump is invented. What progress! Now, instead of multiple insulin shots a day (that have delayed action - and you never quite know when), you can have a vial of insulin attached to you and slowly releasing insulin into your system all day long. At meal times all you have to do is press a few buttons and your "bolus" of insulin is delivered painlessly into your body.

You may think, "Wow, why wouldn't you want to be on a pump?" Well, imagine being hooked up to this medical device 24 hours a day. It's like being on an oxygen pump, but it is hooked to your waist. You have tubes that you have to conceal and if you are a kid, you may need to wear a fanny pack like case all day and all night long. If you go swimming, you need to remove your medical device, and then at the same time go without your insulin. Try sleeping with tubing coming out of your abdomen and you might get tangled up at the night.

Then, let's talk about the cost. You might think since you are not going through all those needles and you need less types of insulin, you might save money. Alas, that is not so. You still have plenty of supplies that you need to keep in stock. Every three days, you need to re-insert your "cannula" with an infusion set that delivers the insulin into your body. These aren't cheap. And we are not even going to talk about the cost of the pump itself. And then on top of that, you still need to keep syringes around just in case the pump malfunctions or if you are off the pump a lot.

Generally speaking you have to jump through hoops to get your insurance company to cover the pump. That's a ton of fun. Then, try to decide what type of pump is good for you. Personally, they all turn me off. Who wants this clunky beeper looking thing with all this tubing attached to you, just so you can eat when you want to? Just so I can leave my kid with other people who aren't trained to take care of him at meals. My son's numbers aren't all that bad. I can understand if you are always at great risk, but James is not. I asked some parents of kids with pumps how their children's blood sugar numbers were. They hesitated and told me that their averages still weren't that great. Again, the pump is supposed to be so much better for a Diabetic's health, but I just don't think that is necessarily true for kids. They also said to get your kid on the pump before they were old enough to object. Soooooooooooo, is the pump for the kid or for the parent? If I'm taking the hit for this invention, it had better be to get my kid's numbers in the optimum range at least 75% of the time.

So, the pumps that have been out there have not really sparked my interest. But, now, there is one that has me interested. It is the Omnipod. It is small. It can be hidden. It is controlled by a remote device which is also your meter. It doesn't have tubing. It doesn't have a separate infusion set. It is waterproof. It doesn't require a ton of extra supplies and equipment to haul around. It has automated injecting! A mother's dream. But, guess what? Since I live in Nebraska, I can't get it yet. Doesn't matter how much money I have, they won't sell it where they don't have reps set up. If I live on the coasts, I'd be okay, but, once again, since I don't live in a huge population center, I'm screwed. Since I live in little ol' Omaha, I have to settle for older technology. Ain't that nice.

So, when people say to me, "All your inconviences can go away if you just get the pump", I want to scream. No, they wouldn't. We'd would just be trading inconviences. I'm not going to settle for something that isn't perfect.

And we aren't even go to talk about the artificial pancreas yet. Because, that is what would really be ideal. What's the hold up with that? And then, once they get that figured out and approved, guess what, it will only be approved for adults, not children. We'll have to wait another year.

So, I guess that is why we stick with shots. No one gives us the runaround with those. Maybe I'm just beat down. Maybe some day I will want to take on the system. Maybe the technology will catch up with my dream for an easier life for my son. Maybe.

If you'd like to donate to our crusade to find a cure for Diabetes, please go here, and, in the immortal words of the Bartles and James guys, "We thank you for your support."

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 06:08 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 1021 words, total size 6 kb.

Okay, I was going to have this really great video to share with you today. But, alas the computer gods do not deem this good.

I'm working on Windows Movie Maker and the darn thing will not let me save the movie file. I've tried everything. I even redid the movie. Any magic advice out there? It's a really great movie, and I want to share it with all of you.

So, since I am getting my house ready for another fundraiser for JDRF tonight, I'm going to abort a good post for today.

Just a thought, anyone who buys Tastefully Simple products can purchase from my representative before the end of business on Friday and 15% of the sales will go to our team goal!

My reps name is Claudia Rodenburg and her email is tastefullycjathotmail.com
The website is http://www.tastefullysimple.com

Bon Appetit!

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 01:01 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 147 words, total size 1 kb.

Since Diabetes has entered our lives, our days have become very structured and very different. We have lost a lot of spontaneity. We thought we would share what it is like to have Diabetes. We also thought it would be interesting to see what it is like from our different perspectives.

Christi's Perspective (CP)
6:45am Hoist myself out of a very comfortable sleep. Colin (our ten-year-old) is going to day camp this week and he needs to be up at school by 8am. He is not going to like getting up early. I have my coffee and get dressed. I get Colin up and ready. James and Maggie are still sleeping.

7:30am I test James' blood sugar while he is sleeping to see if he will be okay while I take Colin up to school. James' blood sugar is high, so he should be okay for a little bit.

James' Perspective (JP)
7:45am Having a really good dream, Mom wakes me up to test me. I want to go back to bed. I'm irritated that I have to go downstairs to eat. Having a hard time staying awake while I'm eating breakfast.

(CP)
8:10am I get back from dropping off Colin (yay!) and James is up and waiting to eat. I draw up James' two shots. I make sure there aren't any air bubbles. I double check the dosage. I measure out his cereal. I give him his shots in his bottom and then he goes to eat. He always eats all of his breakfast. Thankfully I don't have to bug him about finishing it.

(JP)
8:15am I brush my teeth and comb my hair. Don't want to get dressed yet. Mom is bugging me to make my bed.

8:41am We are working on this blog and I'm tired because I was up really late last night.

9:45am Going to Grandmas to hang out and play Club Penguin on her laptop.

(CP)
9:30am I drop off James at Grandmas. I tell her that James needs to test at 10:00am and eat. Maggie and I go home so that I can work on the wedding dress I am making for a Labor Day wedding.

(JP)
10:00am Buzzer on oven goes off. I turn it off and I tell Grandma it is time to test me. I get out my meter and get my poker ready. My number is 339 (yikes) and I tell Grandma that I can have 1 carb for a snack. I tell her I want 3 icees. I get to eat them while I am still on the computer.

11:30am Grandma and I go to Walgreens to pick up milk and then she takes me home.

12:00n Lunchtime. My job is to make lunch for everyone. I'm really hungry and I don't know what to eat. I have to test my blood sugar. Mom gets my shot ready. Mom and Maggie (my sister) want taquitos, but I don't. I decide on pizza bites. I can have 7 of them. I also have some grapes and cheeze its and milk. I really want Diet A & W, but Mom makes me have milk.

(CP)
12n Grandma brings James and 2 gallons of milk home for us (since we are going through a gallon a day! Do they make more fuel efficient kids?) James can't get his act together. He is yelling at me and his sister. He is very grumpy. Slamming the doors on the microwave and the refrigerator. I help test him, and sure enough, he is high, which explains why he can't focus and why he is ticked off. I am ticked myself, because I tell him that feeling bad is not a reason for bad behavior. Of course, I'm yelling this at him, because he wouldn't listen to me when I was talking calmly. He then settles down as I take over his chore of making lunch.

1:00pm I tell James that he needs some time alone and he is sent to his room to read.

(JP)
1:00pm I'm in trouble for goofing off while making lunch, so I'm in my room reading a Star Wars book on Boba Fett. I think the book is good.

2:00pm Mom takes me over to my friend's house. We played.

(CP)
2:00pm I drop off James at his friends, only to find out that these two kids had arranged this play date without the other mother's consent. But it all turns out okay, since she is home and they are not going anywhere. I drop him off while he is going a couple of blocks away to help his friend go get his bike. I tell James to take his kit to the deck. I'm secretly worried that he will go low while they are walking the 3 or 4 blocks to retrieve the bike. I'm hoping they will be back by 3, so that James can test and snack. So, when I get home, I call the other mother to let her know what is going on, remind her that he needs to test and snack at 3pm. She tells me that she is setting the buzzer on the oven and all is taken care of. I'm so lucky that she is a nurse and that she gets all this mandatory testing and snacking. I relax now that I know she is informed and on task. I am also lucky that other parents are willing to take on the burden of making sure my kid is okay while at their house.

(JP)
3:00pm My friend's mom reminds me to test. I go to their kitchen and get my kit to test. I feel fine, but my meter says I am low (5 , so I eat 4 tablets and a snack from the bottom of my bag. My friend got himself a snack at the same time. We go get another friend and play hide and go sneak, basketball, and we set up mini golf in his basement with blocks.

5:00pm. Mom is here to pick me up. I am having a good time playing mini golf and I don't want to leave. Mom tells me that I am going boating tonight, so I need to come home to eat and get ready. That is a surprise and I am stoked.

(CP)
5:00pm I stop by the farm stand to pick up some sweet corn for dinner. James will need a vegetable with carbs in it tonight. I pick up Colin from a friend's house and then I go to pick up James at his friend's house. James does not listen to me when I tell him it is time to go. Once outside though, he gets excited when I tell him he is going boating tonight.

5:45pm Dinner is almost ready. The chicken is fried and the corn is done. Salads are ready. Milk is poured. I go downstairs to test James' blood sugar. He is low again. I return upstairs for 3 tablets and take them to James. At least I won't have to draw up a shot. I call everyone for dinner.

(JP)
6:00pm Our friends that own the boat come over for dinner. We are having fried chicken, corn on the cob, bread, and milk. Mom tested me while I was watching tv and I was low again. So she gave me tablets before dinner. I don't need a shot! The boat's battery needs charging, so we have to get that done.

(CP)
6:30pm I get showered and changed for a night out with my girlfriends. I pack a cooler for my husband and the kids so that they will have something for 8pm snacktime and in case James goes low again. I pray a little prayer that my husband and James will remember to test and snack. I have to have a lot of faith that James will be okay when I am not with him.

(JP)
7:00pm We get to the lake and the engine doesn't start. We had to paddle back in and charge the battery up more. Then it finally started. We finally went tubing. It was awesome! We went really fast and caught some air. Once it was like 10 feet high!

8:30pm We take the boat out of the water. I know it is time to test, so I test myself while they take the boat out of the water. I was 269 (high again). I had some cheeze its. I shared them with my friend.

9:00pm We came home and had strawberry ice cream. Dad tested me again and he gave me a shot since I was still high. We watched tv for a while, then Dad made me take a shower. I was worried that I was taking a shower after my shot. My mom once told me I shouldn't do this.

11:00pm I don't want to go to bed. I want to stay up later and watch more tv on Disney Channel. Dad said to turn the tv off and get to bed.

As I read over this post, which I hope did not bore you to death, I have noticed a few things. A few things that would go away if there were a cure for Diabetes.

1. I don't have faith that James will be safe with people other than myself. Thus, I have become a control freak (which I am not sure will ever go completely away).

2. Many of James' behavior problems directly relate to his blood sugars being out of whack.

3. James has to be really responsible even though he is only 8 years old. He can't always count on the adults around him to make sure he is okay.

So getting rid of Diabetes in our life would drastically change our daily routine for the better. Maybe I wouldn't have to stock up on snacks so much! Would you help us find a cure for Diabetes? If you are interested in donating, please go to JDRF's website.

Thanks again for all your prayers and donations.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:35 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 Thus, I have become a control freak (which I am not sure will ever go completely away). Whatchyoutalkin'aboutWillis? You've always had a strong control freak streak. Do I need to remind you about the times when we had to clean our room and the threats of bodily harm you used to level at me? James' diabetes just brings it out more. Heh. {insert ducking and running here}

Posted by: Kathy at July 31, 2007 03:48 PM (5z8Md)

2 Baldie's getting really brave isn't she? Heh. Actually, I read this whole post nodding my head and clucking with sympathy. My (please GOD) short-lived experience with gestational diabetes (where YOUR LIFE revolves around what you ate, when, and when you're next going to eat) helped me to understand completely what frustration you both must feel. Bless you, cutie pie James, I hope the JDRF hurries up! Lots of love, Margi *who is running like hell from Kathy, now*

Posted by: Margi at July 31, 2007 10:45 PM (66God)

3 Run, Forrest, RUN! Heheheheheheh. Baldie's getting brave? Chica, you've got no idea.

Posted by: Kathy at August 01, 2007 08:09 AM (5z8Md)

4 Have you ever read Dr Bernstein's book on diabetes? He developed the disease when he was 12, back in the '40s, when you had to sterilize needles and do all that work. Now he's in his 70's and says that as far as he knows, he is the only diabetic diagnosed in 1946 who is still alive. I bought the book for my adult son who didn't develop this horrible disorder until he was grown. He was ill, but we didn't know what was wrong. His sugar tested at 600 -- there's clue. Amazing that he was still walking around. It also should have been a clue that he was 6'3" and weighed 139 lbs... He had no insurance so he wouldn't let them hospitalize him. Instead, he stayed in the ER until they got his #s down in the low 300s, and then took a referral to a good endocrinologist to work on getting it down further. He read Dr.B's book, and says when he follows it he knows exactly what his #s will be. When he doesn't, there are the fluctuations you describe. Dr. Bernstein's method is hard, but it works. Most of the foods you describe are verboten...his is not a diet for the faint of heart, but it promotes health and longevity. Even at his age, he has no peripheral nerve damage. None. ...interestingly, when *I* go on that diet, I lose weight and feel wonderful. I'm not in the least diabetic, not even close. But I think Dr. Bernstein's way of eating works for anybody whose endocrine system is out of whack. BTW, he was originally an engineer. He got frustrated with the ADA's ideas about diet because his #s jumped around and he never felt well. So he went to medical school to learn what he could. And now, even in his 70's, he has a full time medical practice devoted to diabetics. Reading the intro to his book was inspiring. You can find it online if you google his name. If you buy into his ideas, just start them very very slowly. Change is painful. If anyone in your family is overweight, they would benefit too. Believe me!

Posted by: Dymphna at August 01, 2007 11:45 AM (Njon8)

5 on Baldie's bravada, I will not lower myself to that childish behavior. Because, of course, I was always right anyway. on the Bernstein book, it sounds very interesting. and I think I have heard of him. My husband is an engineer and the lack of stats makes him crazy. He would love to have James on the continuous glucose monitor because it would give us hundreds of numbers instead of 6-8. Is Dr. Bernstein's "diet" close to Atkins? When we once mentioned James eating more of an Atkins based diet, the doctors freaked out and wouldn't let us. I think it is just because all they know is carb to insulin ratios. So, my thinking is less carbs in, less insulin, less jumping around. Anyway, I will check out that book. thanks for the tip.

Posted by: Christi at August 01, 2007 12:46 PM (w7r8p)

6 My boyfriend has type 1 diabetes. He's 53 and has had it since he was 10. Even though he's had it that long, he still gets some severe lows. I joke (with gritted teeth) that he forgets he's diabetic. So I can really understand your fears about your son's sugars getting out of whack when you're not around to monitor him. You may already know this, but honey is one of the best things for bringing someone out of a low. It works faster than orange juice or the tablets. We carry honey sticks everywhere we go. They are straws filled with honey that you can get at farmers markets and natural food stores and the like. Also, you mentioned that when your son gets older, he probably won't want to use a lunch box to carry around all his supplies. I highly recommend getting a messenger bag. That's what my boyfriend carries, and it's perfect for stashing food, blood testers, etc. We don't leave home without it. Big hugs to you and your family! Let's hope they find a cure soon!!

Posted by: DogsDontPurr at August 01, 2007 05:32 PM (U44Ew)

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Well, it's that time of year again! Time for the Walk to Cure Diabetes! All week long we will be guestblogging here on the Cake Eater Chronicles to raise money to find a cure for Type I Diabetes.

I am Kathy's sister, Christi, in Omaha, Nebraska (the ol' homestead). My 8 year old son, James, has Type I (or juvenile) Diabetes. He was diagnosed right after he turned 3 years old on April 5th, 2002. We immediately went through 16 hours of survival training. This included how to test James' blood sugar, how to draw up and give insulin shots, and the quick and dirty education on nutrition.

The first 3 months after diagnosis were some of the worst months of our lives. There was so much tension in our house. So much blame. So much pain. We never thought we would get out of that phase, but eventually we did. Other families experience the very same troubling 3 months.

Now, Diabetes is just a regular part of our lives. Our regular life is somewhat different from other families though.

For example:

We have to eat at the exact same time every day, so that James can stay on an even keel. That means that James cannot sleep past 7:45a.m. He HAS to wake up and eat at that time every day. Not so easy, now that he is getting a little older and would REALLY like to sleep in.

We have to test James' blood sugars at least 6 times a day. So, no matter what is going on at 7:45am, 10am, 12n, 3pm, 6pm, and 8pm, all the action stops so that we can test James. Better have those supplies handy. Which leads to:

James must always carry his testing and insulin and snack supplies with him. He has a handy dandy Darth Vader lunch box that does the trick right now. Although he is lobbying for a nice new round baseball one for the new school year. I wonder what will happen when he hits junior high and carrying around a lunchbox won't be so cool. I guess we will deal with that new challenge when it happens.

We always have to carry extra food with us no matter where we go. One of the side effects of insulin shots is that you need to have a regular input of food to balance the input of insulin. When you are getting long acting insulin in shots, you can't just change your mind about eating. Eating can become a chore instead of a joy. So, when we are at baseball games for example, I look like overprepared psycho mom with the small cooler with enough snacks and drinks to cover any emergency!

So, enough with the "woe is me" scenario. We like to focus on the positive, it just isn't all that easy.

Since Kathy has been so nice to let us hijack her blog for our good cause, we have tried to make this as interesting as possible. So, James and I made a short video for you. We hope you enjoy it.

How's that for high tech???? Since James is getting older, I wanted him to be a part of this fundraiser and of course, video is more his speed. All week long we will have new clips for you to enjoy. If you click on "menu" in the video box and look at the related links, the one that is titled "JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes" is a great promo clip that Kevin Kline does for JDRF. Very inspirational.

The Omaha Walk to Cure Diabetes is on Saturday, August 11th. Our team, James' Jaywalkers, is attempting to raise $5,500 this year. Last year we almost raised $5,000! We have great friends, families, and of course all of you out there that we don't know, who are so generous. We so appreciate the sacrifices you make to help find a cure for this disease.

You can click on this link to make a donation online: http://walk.jdrf.org/walker.cfm?id=86710340

Later this week, we will have more information on the kind of research JDRF is working on, along with what advances look promising. We will also explain why James is not on the pump (yet).

So, we'll see you on Tuesday for another compelling episode of, "As the Shots Continue."

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 11:45 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I realize we don't have the best of relationships, you and I, dear Hollywood, but really, I swear on this one you won't get screwed on the deal and might honestly conclude that you came out with the better end of the bargain. Are you ready for it? Ok, here goes.

Ahem.

Please, please, please hire Sigourney Weaver to act in something so she doesn't have to demean herself with these pitiful DirecTV commercials.

It's great that she has a sense of humor about herself and the character that brought her worldwide fame, but really. The schtick behind these commercials instantly went straight to hell the minute DirecTV hired El Slutta herself, Pam Anderson, to be in one. Signourney is better than this. Hire her.

I mean, honestly, it's not like she sucks.

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So, I finished Deathly Hallows late last night.

While I can't say that La Rowling's latest work has been great for my health---seeing as how I haven't gone to bed any earlier than two the past several nights and I kinda need my rest. I can say, however, that I---the woman who has recently let her inner hypochondriac fully off the leash, much to the dismay and annoyance of many an oncology nurse---don't really give a shit. Health be damned; I needed to know what happened. Dr. Academic's going to have throw me a bone on this one.

I am not going to discuss anything in the book. Sorry. I'll save that for later, when everyone's through it. I'm afraid of ruining it for anyone by dropping the least little tidbit, and there are so many tidbits it's only by supreme force of will that I'm able to hold back. Last week, I thought La Rowling was being overly fussy and unrealistic when she complained about early reviews. This week, I'm completely on her side. So, lest I give up the ghost by rambling on too long, I will simply say this: Deathly Hallows, the final chapter in what is, ultimately, a set of kiddie books that I refused to read for many years, has turned out to be one of the most satisfying reading experiences I've ever had in my long and varied career of reading fiction.

Brava, La Rowling. Brava.

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I don't think it's a surprise to any of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, that I'm not a huge fan of the band Queen. Any fondness I might have had for them when I was younger was ruthlessly quashed by the repeated playing of "We Will Rock You" at skating parties in my youth (It's hard to clap your hands and skate at the same time. At least it is for some people. They kept wiping out and I couldn't maneuver around their crash sites quickly enough.) and at every televised sporting event during the late eighties and throughout the nineties. While I will admit it's better for sporting event entertainment than, say, "Whoop, There It Is," it is no "Welcome to the Jungle." I will confess a fondness for "Bohemian Rhapsody" but only within the context of "Wayne's World." So, while I am not a fan, I nonetheless think it very cool that Queen's lead guitarist, Brian May, is finally going to submit his long discarded doctoral dissertation in astrophysics to the Imperial College London in the next few weeks.

{...}The 60-year-old guitarist and songwriter said he plans to submit his thesis, "Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud," to supervisors at Imperial College London within the next two weeks.

May was an astrophysics student at Imperial College when Queen, which included Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor, was formed in 1970. He dropped his doctorate as the glam rock band became successful.

{...}May told the British Broadcasting Corp. that he had always wanted to complete his degree.

"It was unfinished business," he said. "I didn't want an honorary Ph.D. I wanted the real thing that I worked for."

Impressive. Much, much, more impressive than "We Will Rock You" in my opinion.

And will allow for a much longer lasting legacy, too, than Rock God status.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:00 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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And we thought it was a big improvement when we got boosted to 56K!

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...is everyone else as relieved as I am that the baldie photo of meself has decided to go hide in the archives?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

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So, my nephew and godson decided to enter the Omaha World-Herald's "Harry Potter Lookalike" Contest. He didn't win, but he did get his picture in the paper.

Go here, click on the gallery and he's the sixth one down on the right.

I've been told that that even he doesn't think he really looks like Harry Potter, but rather thought he had an advantage to press (with his spectacles and haircut) and entered simply for the cash prize.

Which he was going to use to buy "Deathly Hallows" today, but I'm sure his parents will oblige him.

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Because I can...

Top 100 Star Wars lines improved by replacing a word with “pants”.

I find your lack of pants disturbing.

You are unwise to lower your pants.

Chewie and me got into a lot of pants more heavily guarded than this.

Phew! And I thought pants smelled bad... on ... the outside...!

The Force is strong in my pants.

Your pants, you will not need them.

You came in those pants? You're braver than I thought.

I cannot teach him. The boy has no pants.

In his pants you will find a new definition of pain and suffering

Governor Tarkin. I should have expected to find you holding Vader's pants.

I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your pants.

Pull up! All pants pull up!

I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of our pants forever

A disturbance in the pants. I have not felt this since near my old master...

Alderan is peaceful, we have no pants!

I sense the conflict within you. Let go of your pants!

These aren't the pants you're looking for.

That blast came from the pants! That thing's operational!

He has no time for smugglers who drop their pants first sign of Imperials

The pants will be down in moments, sir, you can begin your landing

Looks like someone's beginning to take an interest in your pants.

Lock the door. And hope they don't have pants.

Your pants can deceive you, don't trust them

"I want them alive. No pants." -Vader

Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your pants.

I am altering the pants. Pray that I don't alter them any further

Away with your pants, I mean you no harm!

Great, Chewie, great. Always thinking with your pants.

The Pants are what gives a Jedi his power

"Don't do that, my pants are dirty." "My pants are dirty, too."

Luke, help me take these pants off. -(dying) Darth Vader

I'm taking Captain Solo ... and his pants

Search your pants, you know it to be true.

Han'll have those pants down - we've gotta give him more time!

Look at the size of those pants!

We've got to get a reading on those pants, Up or Down.

You are part of the rebel alliance, and a traitor. Take her pants!

General Tarkin, I thought I recognized your foul pants...

I'm not in this for your revolution, I'm in it for the pants

There's no mystical energy field that controls my pants

Tell that to Jabba. If you're lucky he might only take your pants.

The emperor asks the impossible. I need more pants.

The pants can have a strong influence on weak minds

Will somebody please get this walking carpet out of my pants!

Curse my metal pants.

I only hope that when the pants are analyzed a weakness can be found

Judge me by my pants, do you?

Search your pants, Luke. You know it's true.

So long ago, when all we had was our love. No politics, no plotting, no pants.

Your father wanted you to have pants when you were old enough

He is most displeased with your apparent lack of pants

I don't think the Empire had wookiees in mind when they designed pants

It appears you are to be the main course at a banquet in my pants

You can waste time with your pants when your chores are done.

I seek an audience with your greatness to bargain for Solo's pants

Jabba please take these pants as a token of friendship

"I happen to like nice pants."

Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those pants!

I felt a great disturbance in the Pants.

Yeah, well droids aren't known for ripping pants off when they lose!

Don't try to frighten us with your sorcererÂ’s pants, Lord Vader.

Though I never thought I would be smuggling pants.

Take care of your pants, Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it.

Luke help me take my pants off...

"Slimey? My pants this is." -Yoda

Rear pants down... Argh!!!

Remember your failure in the pants.

See through pants, we can.

"Great pants kid! Don't get cocky!"

Be mindful of your pants Anakin. They'll betray you.

Have you been in many pants?

I used to bulls eye womp rats in my pants back home.

In my experience, there is no such thing as pants.

Only now...in my pants...do you understand.

Put Captain Solo in the cargo pants.

We have no choice, our pants can't repel firepower of that magnitude.

Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your pants.

The more you tighten your pants, the more star systems will slip through...

The pants are down! Commence attack on the Death Star's main reactor.

Yahoo! You're all clear kid. Now let's blow these pants and go home!

"Pants, Luke, Pants!"

"Evacuate?! In our pants of triumph?"

"You know of the rebellion?" "That's how we came to be in your pants sir"

15!?! We can almost buy our own pants for that!

A tremor in the Pants. The last time I felt it was in the presence of my old
master...

At Last, we will have our pants.

Commander, tear these pants apart until you've found those plans.

Leia: I love pants. Han: I know.

No I don't think he likes pants at all. No I don't like pants either

Search your pants Luke

This little one's not worth the effort. Come, let me get you some pants.

Your pants can deceive you, Luke.

Chewie, pants won't help me!

Emperor: You have paid the price for your lack of pants!

I sense a great disturbance in the pants.

I've got a bad feeling in my pants about this.

No more pants. I'm not going that way

She must have hidden the pants in the escape pod

That's funny... the pants don't look as bad from out here.

The pants go off in this direction

Threepio: It's against my programming to wear pants.

Yeah, I just got a funny feeling. Like I'm never gonna see my pants again.

You have taken your first step into larger pants.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:12 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I'm having a hard time trying to suss out just what I don't like about this bit from this morning's Bleat.

{...}There was a creepy old man at the park the other day, my wife told me. Dressed in a ragged suit, carrying his possessions in a plastic shopping bag from a store that has no local outlets anywhere in the neighborhood. Disheveled. He wandered over to the swimming pool and watched the kids. Then he left and wandered away and came back and watched the kids some more. Then he went into the community center, where the kids play unattended sometimes; one of the neighborhood dads followed him, then followed him outside and took him aside for a chat. The fellow said he was homeless, heard about a new shelter in the area, and wanted to live in the neighborhood.

Now. You could say that thereÂ’s nothing wrong with a fifty-something guy with a grey beard and a raincoat and no fixed address wandering around a playground looking at the kids in their bathing suits, and that itÂ’s unfair to deny a fellow the simple human pleasure of watching kids enjoy themselves just because he happens to be homeless.

I donÂ’t care.

First of all, there arenÂ’t any shelters in this area. Second, I donÂ’t care. Third, itÂ’s possible heÂ’s homeless because he spent a lot of time in prison for kiddie-diddling. Fourth, you donÂ’t get to look like the fellow who shows up to collect the Hellraiser cube and hang around the kiddie pool. Good bye.{...}

Aha! By Jove I've got it: it's the whiff of NIMBY flying off it at a speed that would make a French cheesemonger bow with admiration at just how quickly the land speed record for nose crinkling was shattered.

Look, I've got nothing against Lileks. I really don't. Much admiration for his art is to be found in the archives of this here blog. I'm a fan. But this doesn't sit right, and mainly it's because Lileks and I live in the same general part of town. He may sneeze and I may not be able to say, "God Bless You," over the airshaft, but we're talking the same general vicinity. When he chats about Southwest High School before the portion I chose to excerpt, well, that's the high school I went on about in this post, ere so long ago. Southwest is two blocks over, two blocks up. We may never have crossed paths, but we could have. Many, many times.

And what he wrote up there rankles.

It's like he'd like 98% less urban in his urban-living.

Yes, just in case you weren't aware, urban living means, occasionally, running across someone who doesn't have a home. Or a shower. Or even a plastic bag from a retailer in this section of town. Because God only knows we need the homeless to have plastic bags that denote what section of town they're from.

We're fortunate to live in a part of the Cities where you have urban life, but not a lot of urban troubles. When there's a robbery, which is something that doesn't happen very often, you can be certain that the place that was robbed was on a bus line---or within a block or two of said bus line. Yes, this means, in essence, we have such a low crime rate that we have to bus in the criminals. We have a curfew here in Cake Eater Land, and it does keep the summer evening troubles to a minimum---and you don't see the ACLU out protesting about it. No one has a problem with the local curfew. I have many problems with the way the Province of Minneapolis runs things, but my main beef is that they don't have enough cops to keep the speeders from mowing down people left and right on Cake Eater Avenue (because part of Cake Eater Avenue is in Minneapolis Province). We live in a nice part of town. People take care of their lawns, people know their neighbors, they have block parties, everything's tidy and, in general, it resembles one of those highly annoying VISA commercials that are running all over the dial right now. You know the ones I'm talking about, right? Where life is just one step-ball-chain short of Singin' in the Rain? Where, ultimately, paying by cash or check futzes up the choreography, causes the butterfly to flap his wings and a typhoon emerges, hence slowing everyone else down? So, the message you, a terminal cash junkie who just does NOT want to stick their neighborhood retailer with a 2% fee for the privilege of using a credit card to buy a $0.75 donut, are destined to pull is that you should get with the program and get a VISA, lest you slow down and terminally annoy everyone around you.

The Uncle-Joe-says-you'd-better-use-your-VISA-to-fit-in-with-your-fellow comrades-in-life-ads.

If it wasn't obvious, I hate those VISA commercials---and I hate them with a passion. If I want to pay with cash, I will damn well pay with cash and there's nothing you can do to stop me. I don't care if it slows you down. Or makes you drop your latte. Or brings a little chaos theory into your day. I really don't give a shit. That's your problem; not mine.

Lileks doesn't care about the homeless guy who got off track and who may or may not have had nefarious motives when wandering around the fringes of the kiddie pool. He says it flat out. He doesn't care. The guy's probably a child molester. Why should he care?

But I'll bet you anything Lileks really cares when someone holds him up at the checkout line because they chose to write a check and it's slowing him down.

I don't mean to knock Lileks. Really I don't. I'm sure he's a good person, who's got good intentions. But this sort of issue is endemic to the people who live around here. They want everything urban life has to offer, but they don't want any urban problems, either. Like the occasional robbery. Like the occasional transvestite wandering around the neighborhood. Like the occassional polka-dotted house owned by the wandering transvestite which really brings down the property values. (Seriously, folks.) Or the occasional homeless person, who stinks things up. They don't want any urban in their urban life. And as a justification for their behavior, they make up threats where none actually exist. Like a homeless guy who probably got on the wrong bus, didn't have the fare to get back, and is suddenly a potential child molester. People see threats where there aren't any. And if they don't see any threats, well, they'll make some up to give themselves something to do.

I'm not one of those people who wants more pr0n in Times Square, because, mainly, it's better than the Disneyfication of the place. I'm not a big fan of homeless people, either, but at least I realize if I want an urban life, I'm going to have to have a little urbanity in it---and that may include things I'd rather weren't there. Like homeless people wandering around, making life uncomfortable for those who are gainfully employed. Unlike Lileks, I actually use public transportation. Public transportation is where the homeless people go during the day. It is where they get on in the morning after they've been evicted from their shelter, and where they stay until it's time to go back again, mooching transfers from every single person they come across who isn't connected to an iPod and can actually hear their request. I've been on buses from downtown, in the middle of January no less, where every single, solitary window was open because a homeless person's funk was so particularly horrid that was the only way you could possibly breathe. Lileks is safe in his green Honda Element and I'm sure he's got those neat little minty air fresheners hanging around his rearview mirror in case his car has to pass through the hood and the aroma of micturition is particularly fragrant and wafting that day. Given this, of course he's going to assume the worst of this homeless person by the kiddie pool. Homeless people are not part of his daily milieu. But what is really impressive in all of this is how quickly he managed to go from zero-to-sixty in 3.5 seconds flat when it came to assessing the potential threat this man meant. Furthermore, he doesn't give a rat's ass about it. He should, at the very least, go back over the situation in his head and wonder if there was some need to feel threatened, or if he was just overreacting. Which he probably was. If so, he should feel some shame at his reaction.

But he doesn't care..

He's just a suburbanite living in an urban world because there's just so much more kitsch on offer in the urban world! He's a VISA user in a cash-only line, and pretty soon, just you wait, he'll move out to Eden Prairie or Anoka or Blaine because he just doesn't want to have to wait around for someone to receive their change.

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