Wednesday, November 23, 2011


There’s an event I like to go to on the last Wed. of every month called Pecha Kucha, and sorry, but you just pronounced it wrong... way wrong -- you have to hear someone say it minimum 100 times before your brain can process it, because it’s a Japanese word, and it means “chit-chat”.

Pecha Kucha originated in Japan and takes place in cities around the world, including Providence, at rotating venues once a month. There are an assortment of presenters each time, often working from a loose theme from which they do a slide presentation. 20 slides and 2 minutes to talk on each one, not a slide or second, more or less. You never know where someone will go with that. Some are banal, some are funny, some are informative and yes, some are brilliant because the brilliant walk among us.

As soon as I heard about PK last year, I was there, because it is so up my alley and Wed., is my only night w/o the kids and I try to get out, so PK is perfect for me. I’ve gotten brave and I’ll even go solo {but not brave enough to present} if I can’t find anyone who will go with, and luckily, I always run into someone I know to chat with, if not glom onto entirely, because here in Providence, you pretty much always run into someone you know.

Last month a feisty, warrior of a twenty-somthing gal got up there and blew the roof off. Seriously, this chic had it going on. Her presentation was about her cancer treatment {concluded, yay!} and she was hilarious. Cancer-girl had moxie and wit and immeaurable exhuberance and bravery, and the most beautiful lack of boundaries. I love anyone lacking boundaries because around them, I’m much less likely to get in trouble {well, certain boundaries anyway}.

One of the topics Cancer-girl landed on was the nasty thing they make you drink in mass quantity before a CATscan. She was wondering why it was so over-the-top disgusting and her mother {did you get that? her MOTHER!} pointed out that it was because it had the color and consistency of semen. And it’s TRUE! And now I learn first hand that they add insult to injury and call it “creamy vanilla smoothy” and serve it up at room temperature in a big ugly plastic bottle. They should really avoid the word “creamy” when dealing with this this stuff {i really can’t call it a beverage}. This stuff that I nearly choked to death on a few days ago trying to chug, to just plain get it over with. Now I’ve got nothing against semen, it gave me children and I am rather fond of men, I've got no problem with it’s delivery device, but 36 oz. straight, with no heavy petting and then again an hour later, in a hospital waiting room, NO THANK YOU!

I know I already have cancer, but if ever there were good cause for some red dye #2 and refrigeration, this is it.

Aside from that, I’m sitting in the waiting room with the loud TV waiting for my heart scan... gotta kill 20 minutes between injections and then I’m done! My month long marathon of tests will be concluded and next week I meet with my oncologist Rochelle Rochelle and settle on a plan. I may only have a week until chemo starts and I plan to make to most of it. Pie for breakfast and getting out and about as much as possible. I’ll be at the studio for a few hours tonight during the farmer’s market and I’ll also be in on Saturday, so I hope I’ll see some of you then, when it’s a bit less chaotic {and emotional} than Craftopia.

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