Life on the streets

Life on the streets

I spent my Friday lunch with a friend whose husband walked on her for a younger model. Why do men do this? I think it's a direct reaction to their fear of mortality. Anyway, we had an a wonderful time, and when we left, we saw a dead rat on the street, fried from running across the electrical wires. "That's him," I told her. "He's dead to us." IMG_8211

I took a photo of said rat to remember him by, and then we hugged and I told her I loved her and I thought, if I were a single man, I'd buy her a drink if we were out, 'cos she's sexy as hell and has green eyes. I mean, who can bypass green eyes?

Then I spoke with a friend with cancer in her gut,  who was worrying about everything, but mostly about money since she was told to not come back to her job after getting cancer. Why do people do this?

A friend of hers suggested she do a Go Fund Me. She knew I had done one for my brother, which basically saved his life when he was living in hospital  for four months, so I said I would set it up for her.

I started it on Friday afternoon. Today we have over $11k in the account. We're still trying to get some more in the piggy bank, because she's about to have most of her stomach removed and another twelve weeks of chemotherapy, so she won't be working for at least six months.

If you feel like throwing her $5 for parking, or even $50 for a days chemo, she would be most grateful.


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On Saturday, I wrote most of the day, trying to finish this new book, and in the evening I went to a dinner party for a friends birthday. Her husband cooked up a storm and I laughed a lot, and talked with clever people, all doing clever things. I gave my friend a plastic hippo with a plant in it, because she's funny, and she likes plants and I knew she would find somewhere cute to put it in her house, and because I wanted to make the joke she had a hippo-pot-plant-amous.


Yesterday I ate lunch with Narissa who is housing the gut cankerous, and we talked about people's kindness and ate good food, and discussed her upcoming surgery, and her husband spilled beer on her pants and into her chemo pump that she has to wear 24/7. She is at chemo again today, where no doubt the nurses will think she has a yeast infection due to her fermenty scenty  pump holder.

Then I delivered a painting of hers to a friend who bought one a) because she liked it and b) because she wants to help Narissa even though she doesn't know her. You can see what available paintings she has below and message me if you want one for your fine self! She's very talented and very collectable.


Then I went home to chaos and children, and more washing than you can imagine, and pushed the fundraising some more, because: a) I'm pretty annoying and b) I most people don't like me much anyway, thus me hassling for money on behalf of Narissa isn't going to lose me any friends. As I once said to a doctor who was rude to my sister who was fighting cancer and partial paraplegia, "I don't care if you don't like me. Your opinion of me means nothing,  just do your job properly, and make sure my sister gets the information and care she needs."

I'm an arsehole but I'm a good one to have on your side.

Now I'm back at the laptop, working on three things at once, and wondering if someone will go to the supermarket and chemist for me, because a) I'm too busy and b) I don't want to go.

I usually do nothing on weekends but write and potter, but this weekend I was flat out with socialising and fundraising, both of which I enjoyed immensely.  Now I need a weekend from my weekend, and suddenly writing looks relaxing.

Happy Monday, and thanks for reading friends.







Not Everything Has To Be Hard

Not Everything Has To Be Hard