leanne

Happy birthday, marvelous beautiful Moya!

A piece of string walks into a bar.
The bartender says “we don’t serve string here.”
The string walks out, works itself into a frenzy and ties itself up.
The string goes back into the bar.
Bartender says “aren’t you that piece of string?”
String says, “I’m a frayed knot.”

Giggle. The kind of joke that is much better heard than read.

And just the kind of humor that Moya passes around. Sweet gal. Here’s to your beautiful self.

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pat benatar

pat benatar

after arguing pointlessly and confusingly with the most unhelpful USAA car insurance agent i have ever had the misfortune to be assigned (“i can tell you right now, there’s no way your deductible will be waived in time even if you aren’t at fault”; “if Ryder’s insured doesn’t accept 100% blame, you’ll have to take them to small claims court to recoup the rental car fees; there’s nothing we will do about it” and additional doom and unfriendliness about how they might never contact their insured, thankyouverymuch for your help), i unexpectedly cheered myself up by taking home a pat benatar cd yesterday. it wasn’t enough to have seen her live (on september 10, 2001, speaking of yesterdays), but two years later as she’s still turning out new cds, i get to still take a new pat benatar cd home. i understand she’s got a ‘real’ new album out with an all new, different sound, however i took home more of the yesterday stuff yesterday: the double-cd/dvd called best shots. on the included dvd, you can see pat and her husband watching the old videos (back when music videos were so revolutionary!) along with you, and commenting about their hair and makeup and corny video stories the whole way through. it really brightened my day —– and i have no idea why. perhaps it’s because, along the lines of everything old is new again, i have a crush on pat benatar, again! maybe crushes on pat benatar make me happy. or probably, it’s the hair.

or maybe it’s because of leanne. she calls and she writes and she sleeps on only one side of the strange bed, as do i… leanne sends me greeting cards when she’s gone and makes silly rhymes. hmm. leanne pat benatar. hmm …

that settles it. leanne is pat benatar. leanne, come home!

women

women

yesterday, leanne and i went to the mayor’s summit for women at the moscone center and heard an impressive lineup of women speak. very little said directly about breast cancer, though molly ivins herself is a survivor. health care and child care, confusion about hormones, being a leader and being a mother, and running for office were all emphasized. the war continues to disrupt the world, and most made passing but not pointed reference to it – except for maxine waters. i like leanne’s post to noend about it so much that i’m just going to reproduce it here:


yesterday i went to moscone with my gf moya for the mayor's summit for women and felt overwhelmingly humanized.

not being a very big fan of willie, myself, i was impressed that all these kickass speakers consider him to be one of their good friends -- ann richards, molly ivins, marian wright edelman, jocelyn elders, patricia ireland, oral lee brown, maxine waters, and others gave fiery impassioned speeches and sometimes modest accounts of some of the really inspiring things they've done (oral lee brown adopted a class in a poor school in oakland and has helped them all graduate from high school and college and some have gone on to grad school)

maxine waters talked (that seems like too soft of a word -- she was ablaze) about what a warhog george bush is and how the new tax cuts he is proposing will kill head start and other programs that help children -- particularly poor children ... and someone else mentioned that dietrich bonhoefer's test of the morality of a society is in how they treat their children and the u.s. fails that test appallingly easily.

several of the speakers mentioned how the u.s. does not provide healthcare or decent education to most poor children but is happy to lock them up in jail (where they can get healthcare) when they become an errant teenager.

marian wright edelman (founder of children's defense fund and author of a few books) was particularly smart and passionate while she sailed and pounded through statistics about poverty and children and the devastating effects on children and adults and our society. i wish i could invite her to dinner.

about 4000 women were there. the food was just awful. the demographics were refreshingly different from most (tech) conferences that i go to. yesterday there were mostly women -- and a pretty equal mix of black, asian, white, hispanic, latino ...

there was a most excellent war protest out front in the morning and then a 'save our neighborhood schools -- don't ship our children out of the neighborhood' coalition in the late afternoon.

ann richards rocks. she told stories and jokes and gave health advice and political advice and bemoaned the current state of the u.s.

molly ivins surprised me by spending her entire speech encouraging women to run for public office and get involved in politics and pass campaign finance reforms (i thought she'd tell funny stories and jokes about bush). she seemed a bit weary and tired of the current state of the u.s. and the world.

i was surprised that catholic healthcare -- who i've heard doesn't allow abortions and takes over hmo's and limits access to birth control -- was a major sponsor when most of the speakers were pro-choice.

dr. jocelyn elders made me feel so good that my hands hurt from clapping. i wish she was surgeon general instead of the doofus we currently have.

then i walked to work this morning to the peaceful rumble of my neighborhood without the roar of the fell street exit. i know it's causing traffic hell for a lot of people, but, for me, it's bringing me closer to my community and neighborhood.

now i've gotta go home for the day .... here's to meeting and mingling with people we don't usually see in our daily lives. i feel completely inspired.

leanne - skipping - to - from - hayes - valley - lower - haight

leanne’s dream log

leanne’s dream log

mountainous ski lodge with biopsies instead of skiing

last night i dreamt that moya and i were driving up a mountain to get to the place where she’d have her breast biopsy. the road was narrow with tight curves, for some reason i thought it was a mysterious road, and a cliff went straight up on the right and straight down on the left (much like driving north on hwy 1, i suppose). it was a bright and sunny day with white puffy marshmellow clouds. the road ended in a trailhead and we got out of the car and hiked up the trail. there was a large victorian building at the end of the trail that i instantly recognized as a ski lodge (i love the parts in dreams where i just k-n-o-w). but there was no skiing at the “ski lodge” and no snow. instead, there was big view and a receptionist who took moya’s health insurance and doctor and surgeon information for her biopsy and sent us off to the lounge. the waiting room had big comfy soft chairs and a bar — which was tended by christy shepard. i procured martinis for me and moya and we sat in the big comfy chairs and looked out at the view across mountains and valleys and waited. i was confused about where i was (what country, where on the map, that sort of confusion) and the view from the puffy chair made me wonder if we were in provence.

then spike was scratching at the window and opening the curtain — letting in 8am sunlight — and i woke up.

a bit o’ background for help in interpreting (!)

. . . christy shepard provided fantastic couples therapy services for me and moya in the late 1990’s

. . . we were talking about france at the anti-war march on sunday

. . . we’ve been talking about going on a hike thursday evening before moya’s friday event

. . . dr susan love’s breast book talks about outpatient surgery as being a bit like going to a spa

. . . i love puffy fluffy clouds — ricky lee jones and the orb sing a song about little fluffy clouds that moya put on a mixed tape for me in the late 1990’s

whew!

thoughts from leanne

thoughts from leanne

a few thoughts from leanne who loves moya and her breasts but not just for her breasts :)

i get anxious and sad and nervous and fearful about *s-u-r-g-e-r-y* (such an ominous word though it seems like it’ll be such a minor event) for biopsy and anxious about the results and glad that there’s something being done to better define the calcifications. isn’t it ironic that they’re called “calcifications” and the thing my bones lack are enough calcium and here moya has extra calcifications. okay so calcium for bones isn’t the same as calcifications.

i hear from and talk with all these people who think it’s not that big of a deal to have your breast sliced into in two places and it’s oh-so-common and happens all the time and you go back to work the next day and … well … never happened to me before so it feels oh-so-uncommon to me and i think it’s a big deal. i feel like i’m having some overly dramatic emotional reaction. i’m struck by something to do with loss. perhaps the loss of a few grams of body tissue? or the loss of certainty of health (not that certainty really exists)? that we’re healthy until proven otherwise.

i’m also grossed out by the description in dr susan love’s breast book of making an incision and digging through tissue to get the calcifications out and all those stitches (and, oy, the picture of pulling tissue out makes me nauseous — and i don’t need any more nausea these days).

i know the anxiety is not at all rational and logical and doesn’t take into account the facts and information about the probable results of the biopsy — that dr grissom is extremely talented and experienced; and that it’s fabulous these are found early and can be removed instead of waiting for lumps and bumps; and it happens to 20% of gals; and “they” (the experts) know a lot about what to do even with uncertainty about what to do; and, being a stats geek, i know that 90% benign is really superduper high odds, and, anyways, i get weepy over the thought of a surgeon slicing pieces out of moya.