Before falling into sleep I sometimes compose blog posts in my head. Last night I was thinking to myself about leg hair, and how I should write about it here. My post idea was basically this:

“This winter I shaved my legs once. Zsolt is the only man I’ve ever encountered (intimately) who is cool with hair on my legs – heck, I go out in the summer with week-long unshaven legs ever since finding this blessing of a man. I suspect it’s because he’s from Europe . . .or that he just a guy who doesn’t care.

He was also one of the first guys I’d met who would throw down the dance gauntlet before anyone else had hit the dance floor. This wasn’t even contingent on pre-drinking. It was only contingent on there being cheesy eighties pop music playing. The first time we ever went dancing was in Nice, France. That time he definitely wasn’t sober. Zsolt had this signature dance move he does that involves him pointing at you with both hands stretch out, then letting that “point” circle around the room. It was noticeable and hilarious. Now I pull that point-finger move far more often than he does, but it will always remind of me of when we first met.

I have this memory of being about 13 years old and attending a pool party. My legs had stubble. And being a typical teenage girl, I of course chased boys around the pool all night threatening to scratch them with my semi-hairy legs.

“Touch my leg!” I’d say.

And they’d run.

This is a case of being high on hormones. That’s also how I met my husband. Hormone high = mighty courage.

My next scan/x-ray/whatever is scheduled for May, and I’m thinking of pushing it two months back. Part of me fears everything, and is scared the cancer will gets frustrated with being ignored if I push it back. A larger part of me doesn’t want to allow cancer to once again ruin an important time of the year. From May till the second week of July we have important stuff happening.

Last year our birthdays were heartbreaking occasions.

So this year, I’d like to wait on whatever news – good, bad, or unchanged – may be coming. I just want to wait. That means I need to call the oncologist. Dr Canada seems to get that I want to live well. But still, asking for anything other than protocol is scary business for me. Maybe I’ll grow my leg hair for courage, and hit up some hummus & olives for a temporary hormone high.”

And that is the post I was thinking of writing. Not actually word-for-word, but something along those lines. Surprisingly this isn’t the stuff that keeps me awake at night. What keeps me awake is the building bunch of projects I have going on – including my book launch!

Now, here we are at the end of this rambling post.

Good morning!