I'm going to New York City!!

I'm going to New York City!!

Yes, it's true. I'm getting on a plane for the first time in a YEAR.



I didn't want to share anything about the trip until now because there were so many variables that could have prevented it from happening. If the weather was over 85 degrees for more than two days, I would've had to cancel. If my stomach started giving me grief, I'd have to cancel. If I got inconclusive news regarding a cancer screening (which I don't always share publicly), I'd have to cancel. So many variables.

I'm such a fragile organism now. Which I find highly irritating. I don't see myself as fragile, never have. But it's a reality I can't deny these days. 

There are a few reasons for the trip:

Read More

I'm glad I'm not a mom

I've never felt more relieved in my life to not be a mom. There I said. I promised you honesty! The Internet might explode more from me saying this than our current administration committing treason. But you know. Priorities. 

The weird thing is: I always figured I'd become a mom. While at the same time doing everything I could to avoid it. How's that for ambivalence.

I see now that I figured I'd become a mom because that's just what women in my family, in our culture, do. Also, I'm really good with kids. That's partly because I started raising them while I was still a kid myself. 

By the time I was six years old, I had two younger siblings and two younger cousins that lived across the street. By the time I was eleven, there would be two more cousins for a total of six younger kids I helped care for. I literally have no memory from my childhood where I was not mothering children.

Read More

How I Resist while Disabled

How I Resist while Disabled

How do we stay calm in the midst of a crisis?

How do we set aside emotions that blur our thinking?

How do we stay hopeful when our world is collapsing around us?

Like people trapped in a car that’s gone over a bridge, the water level is rising. Some people are in denial. Others are fruitlessly banging on window that will never budge.

I don’t want to act. I want someone to save me.

Or, I want to let myself sink to the bottom and let go.

But. I do neither.

Read More

I want a job

I want a job. I want to wake up, complain about waking up, turn off my alarm because it’s too early, and get dressed for a job. I want to put on my black work pants and a shirt appropriate for work. I want to stuff my breakfast down without thinking. Get in the car, already exhausted from imagining the day ahead, turn on the radio and sip my homemade coconut chai drink while navigating traffic. Traffic! I want to complain about traffic, my commute, how bad it is in Seattle now.

I want to get out of my car and roll my eyes at the flood of emails I’ve already gotten about a meeting that has been re-scheduled a million times.

Read More

Am I strong enough?

Am I strong enough to carry other when I can barely carry myself?

Am I strong enough to stand up for love even though it will make me a recipient of hate?

Am I strong enough to fight when I can barely eat?

Am I strong enough?

I don’t know.

I don’t know if I can do this. If I can find the energy to strategize, organize, and resist.

I don’t know if I SHOULD use my precious energy to fight the demons in the world when I have to face so many of my own.

I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore.

This body is fragile and unfamiliar.

Read More

I don't want to hide anymore

I’ve been thinking about how everyone keeps calling me brave. Because my view of myself from the inside is often a bumbling, neurotic, insecure woman. There. It’s out there now. I’m actually a very insecure, nervous nelly! I overthink everything. I dissect what I say. What I do. What I wear. How I speak. All of it. I think one of the reasons I loved living in New York is that I blended in so easily with all the other neurotics. 

Maybe this isn’t as big of surprise to you as I think it is. Perhaps it is.

Either way, I want to come clean. I want to come out of the insecurity closet and wear my neurosis proudly! Because, in the end, who the fuck isn’t insecure? Or questioning themselves all the time? One of the best things about being such an overly sensitive neurotic is that it makes me self-aware – some of the time too much, obviously – but a lot of the time, it allows me to sense someone’s sadness and ask if they are ok, inviting a heartfelt conversation. It allows me to think about each and every post and wonder: is this going to contribute to the Internet conversation in some meaningful way? Or is it just self-importance drivel?

Read More

Everything I do to heal

This is my belly during acupuncture which I get for digestion and back pain. Dr. Wang adds electrodes to the needles for extra activation.

I’ve watched all of the Bourne movies at least 50 times. My favorite thing about Jason Bourne is that he is never a victim. Even when they try to assassinate him, he doesn’t run away. He confidently heads TOWARD the shooter. He doesn’t hide. He doesn’t wallow. He doesn’t cower in fear. He confidently flips the situation to his advantage.

Dorky, I know but movies like this help my mental state. It’s so easy to get down these days. SO EASY. 

I want to head towards cancer and the havoc it caused my body.

I want to challenge it. 


More than anything, I want to prove the doctors wrong.

I love proving doctors wrong.

When I asked the gastroenterologist how to prevent bowel obstructions last summer after my hospitalization, he said

Read More

Dear Cancer I want to hate you

Dear Cancer,

I want to hate you. I do. I want to KICK your ass with everyone cheering me on. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT you as the enemy. I want to beat on you with a baseball bat, gloved fists, booted feet. You have stolen seven organs from my family in 18 months. You have halted my life. Cut me open, raw, 7-inch scar left in your wake. Toxic drugs plunging through my veins. Shrunk my beloved palate and plate. Messed with my hormones. Forced me to quit working. Changed so much of my life. You're still stealing from my dad. You've already taken enough from my sister. I want to hate you.

But I can't. I can't hate you. Ohhhhhhh, how I want to hate you.

Read More