Merry Christmas! It seems to get shorter every year--I think when I was little the season seemed endless. But it's still nice. This holiday was no exception; I must say it was leaps and bounds better than the last one--no oxygen tubes! Which as we all know, sets the stage for a very merry holiday! No, seriously, I had a lot to be grateful for this holiday season and well, I can't really complain (I'll save that for the off nights). It's been a very up and down season but at the same time, it's always more up than down. I actually went to Midnight Mass. I felt that since so many people put me in their prayer circles and lit candles, that I should go and pay homage. And the priest had a very nice sermon about how this season is always about looking forward. And how it represents hope, renewal and promise. And I know that with each passing day, I am closer to believing in those three things. And being around friends and family and good food, it makes you really feel as if anything is possible. So no truly valuable insights or gripes. I think for at least the next week, I'm just going to believe that there's much more that I can be, and wish for and know how much I am truly blessed.

Merry Christmas! Happy Christmakuh or whatever it is you celebrate!!!!

So there is a unique lesson that I've learned over the past couple weeks. No one really cares that you were sick. No, no, I need to amend that. That's not a fair statement. Some people simply do not care; not in an evil way, that's not what I mean. They do not care that you've been through hell and that you simply deserve better than what they can give you. Do I sound bitter? Sorry, it's just that for some reason I'll be honest--I thought that being a "survivor" kind of gave me the status of: you know she's been through enough, I really don't want to screw with that. But at the end of the day, well, we're all only human. And any time you put yourself out there--in any regard work, friends, romantically--you're still going to be on the same playing field as everyone else. Just because you have a port scar, doesn't mean that you can't get hurt. I honestly think that at 25 I've been through enough. I've buried two best friends, saw the Twin Towers collapse and had to walk through the rubble, and got through my own serious illness. I just want it not to be so hard. I don't need anymore life experience.

Last year, as we all know I was bald except for a few stray wisps. I got a very expensive wig, that I never wore except on two occasions. One was for a photo. I had on my very expensive wig and my brother put on the wig I had received from the American Cancer Society which honestly looked like, I’m not sure how to put this nicely, but that if you were going to have a crack-whore character in a movie, she’s wear it. Anyway, my brother and I posed for a photo, which my mother put on a Christmas card. Yes, that was our Christmas card that year. However, do you know what my mother forgot last holiday season? To put my name on the Christmas card. So there’s a picture of me and my brother and it says, “Happy Holidays from (insert mom), (insert dad), (insert brother #1) and (insert brother #2)” and no Terri. I know she felt very bad and I was laughing because it was like, uh, are you preparing for something? Because one year we got a card from our parents friends which was the three of them, plus the headstone of their father. Which the sentiment was nice, but it was kind of morbid to have it on your fridge.

Today it is absolutely freezing out. Bitter, bitter cold. What the hell? A few days ago it was so nice out. I was saying to someone how it was a mild winter, and then today I’m bundled up like Yukon Cornelius, rocking my black snow boots (not Uggs or anything that resembles them—these are in fact quite functional) and thanking that I had the wits about me to replace the scarf and gloves that I had lost two weekends ago. Cause, damn! And I love all my coworkers who are exercising their right to not come in and be like, "I'm working from home" simply because it's too cold for them to travel in. Yes, I'll admit it, I've done it when it's been really rainy. So rainy in fact, that I could not cross the street. However, I feel that in this day and age, we will not call out for being sick, but it's much better to call in for the weather. That's awesome. Let's show up at the office, nauseus and feverish and coughing and sneezing and show how dedicated we are to our jobs. And let's not mind the fact that there are about 30 people that we're coming into contact with and who now we're gettng sick, because we're dedicated! Stay home, rest properly, not infect the whole office--NEVER! It's all about dedication to spreadsheets! Give me a freakin break. And right about this time last year is when I had the PCP and it wasn’t this cold, and can I tell you—thank god, or else I’d probably be dead.

Speaking of being dead; yeah, I’m not always good at the segue. I’m working on it though. It was nice to talk to the ex this weekend, as I’ve mentioned below, because I’m a sucker for compliments and also it’s nice that when your 15-year-old boyfriend (who has grown up quite nicely) still thinks your cute. Hee. Blushing right now! Anyway, we were talking about our experiences (his in the war) and he told me how a missile landed right by his camp and somehow didn’t go off. He tells me that he doesn’t know the chances of that, but for some reason the man upstairs wanted him to have a second chance. I think a lot of us feel that way in our lives. Because there’s so many opportunities for us to be graduation photo on the front page of the Daily News, and yet somehow a little to the left, ten seconds late or completely missing the bus, makes all the difference. It’s an odd thing to ponder.

So it's bound to happen--the ex-boyfriend run ins. Sometimes they can be good. Sometimes they can be horrifically embarrasing. Sometimes you aren't even there. Well, for the first and the last related to my cancer-survival experience.

This weekend seemed to be blast from the past time. I have the remarkable ability of recall. I can remember names, faces and events (even with the chemo-fog) pretty well. So here I am, not drinking per my mantra of last week (btw, more below), and across my line of vision are these two birthmarks on the side of a guy's face. Don't ask how I remembered this but I was like, "Hey!" He turned around, and yes it was my high school (the early years) boyfriend. He didn't recognize me at first--oh I should explain what I looked like on this outing. I was dressed well enough, but I had decided to not wash my hair (sexy I know) and throw it back in a headband and I was too tired to put on my contacts and makeup, so I was completely without makeup and wearing my glasses (hot, I know). Yes, it is true, you will always run into people when you look absolutely like you are in your living room on a Sunday, eating a bagel and watching football. Needless to say, he looked really really good. Damn! Anyway, we chatted for a while, and he says, "So, I heard you were a little sick" and I know he knows that I wasn't a little sick, but he obviously wanted to bring it up and he's never been a master wordsmith. Anyway, I replied, "Yes, I had that whole cancer thing, but I'm fine now. Don't I look fine? I mean, in general, not tonite, because I really don't look all that great tonight," and he started laughing at my babbling and he was like, you look great Terri. Short hair is really becoming on you. And yes, I melted. It was nice to see him and to chat with him and it was just the pick-me-up I needed to feel more like myself. Particularly, after well, see below paragraph.

Anyway, so me and my mom chat all the time about stuff. It's honestly what happens when you're joined to the hip with someone. When she had to help me through some really embarrasing nights, and then all that time in the hospital and the chemo room--I mean, you might as well talk because there's a lot of hours to fill up. Anyway, I call her the next day to tell her who I ran into. And she counters with, "OH, I forgot to tell you I ran into J. on Friday night in Pathmark". I was like, WHAT? It's already Sunday--that warrants an immediate update! She told me that he walked by her, and he lost weight since we dated (swearing he reminds her of Nick Lachey. I don't know, I don't trust that comparison. And if he does--it doesn't make me feel any better). So he walks by, she's like, hmmm, I think that's him and she decides to follow him and say hi. Don't ask--we dated like 7 years ago (high school--the later years and into college). So she's like, hi, there it's me, Terri's mom, yadda yadda yadda. He's all like, "Oh, how is she?" and my mother proceeds to say this, "Well, she's a year in remission" and he was like, "Wait, what?" And then my mother didn't know what to say next. She had believed, for some reason, that everyone knew what had happened. I had to remind her that people do have lives, and since there wasn't a billboard up, that people might not know. So she throws him for a loop, and he basically doesn't know what to say and can I tell you--awkward. So he then introduces her to his fiance. He is marrying the girl that he dated after we broke up. Which is very strange to me. I'm pretty sure she followed up with a quick synopsis of my job, my brothers and all that stuff, but I could not imagine what that is like. The girl you had a horrible break up withs mother (it was like a bitter divorce) tracks you down in a supermarket and you try to make polite conversation only to find out she had cancer. Ugh. But still--makes a great story.

I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping. Right now, I'm all cozy in my bed, and I can hear the wind whipping against the trees which is throwing them into my windows. Earlier today I saw the backyard cats, all snuggled up together and sleeping. And now, I can't get the vision of them alone and cold and with this weather the way it is. It's honestly making me so upset, that I'm having a hard time getting to bed.

Because I always think of how much I have. Maybe in comparison to some people, I don't have that much. But honestly--I have a good job, a nice apartment, nice clothes, spending cash, great friends and family. I also have my health, which is something that I put at the top of the list. This season is so hard, because I think of those that don't have what I have. I struggle with that notion; like I could be doing more but at the same time, I'm not sure what that is. I couldn't really take the cats in and I'm not sure if I should have something built in the backyard for them, because then it might just house fleas and vermin and I might be doing a disservice. But this "cycle of life" thing is really hard to accept. Why there are those who are out there suffering--either from illness, or poverty or abuse--and I'm not. What lucky straw did I get to pull out in order to be here and be so well taken care of?