Never Met A Lance I Didn't Like

Heyyooooooooo.  It's Thursday. I suck at my deadline, and you learned that early on.

Speaking of "early on", I wanted to say thank you all for reading this spewing of my words.  When I started this blog, it was really more of a way for me to cope with all of the memories and anger that I still have pent up about 2009.  I try to keep a brave face, but those memories haunt me vividly still, and this blog has helped me sort out some of those things and kind of find out how I feel about life now.  But the fact that people actually read it, and seem to enjoy it is something I really appreciate.  I've reached a milestone in the amount of hits this blog has reached, but I'm not going to say what it is because it might not actually seem like a lot to everyone else...and I care so much about what everyone thinks.  For real though.  But this blog has garnered a lot more attention than I ever would have thought, and I'm grateful that people care about what I have to say.  Or at least care enough to read what I have to say. 

So let's talk about stuff, I guess.  Let's talk about Lance Armstrong.  And while we are talking about Lance Armstrong, let's talk about Lance Bass.  We should talk about both of them.  Two Lances, three testicles.   Yeah, I said it.

But back to what I was saying.  About Lance Armstrong and more importantly, Lance Bass.  Lance^2 (I tried to figure out how to make a little squared symbol, but then I remembered that ^2 means squared on a graphing calculator).  I LOVE BOTH OF THESE LANCES.

And I will tell you why:

Lance Bass, the animated Peter Pan, and Peter from the Brady Bunch were my first crushes (well, after the kid who sat behind me in 1st grade who made me a personalized hand-traced turkey at Thanksgiving).  Lance Bass was the mysterious one in NSYNC.  They never really let him sing a lot, but man was he pretty.  It's kind of like the NSYNC peeps were like "LANCE!  You will never sing lead on any songs, but maybe after Justin decides to have a solo career, you can be an astronaut and go to space!" (he NEVER WENT TO SPACE WHAT WAS UP WITH THAT?)  I love Lance Bass because he had yellow frosted tip hair.  It wasn't blonde.  It was yellow.  And yellow, my friend, is my favorite color.  If I could grow up and have Lance Bass, Peter Pan, and Peter Brady be my sister-husbands I would.  But alas, Peter Pan is a cartoon (AND NEVER RESPONDED TO MY FAN LETTERS), Peter Brady married the girl who won the first America's Next Top Model that no one remembers, and Lance, dearest, darlingest Lance...is gay.

Such is the way of life.

Lance Armstrong, who recently confessed to Oprah that he used performance enhancing drugs to help him win the Tour du France, provided my people (the people of the cancer tribe), with a reputable, helpful, and comforting resource to use as we try to navigate our way through post-cancer life.  "Livestrong" is more than just the tacky little bracelet you wear on your wrist to show other people that you hate cancer.  It is an organization that helps people like me, who are stuck in this f**king crazy mess of cancer madness, find solace in the fact that there are other people like us somewhere on this planet that know how to saline and Heparin lock an IV, and are scared every day of their life that one little mutated cell is going ruin everything.

Yes.  It sounds dramatic.  But it is.  No one. NO one. NO ONE.  Could ever understand the inner-workings of a cancer survivor or cancer patient's mind.  There is no such thing as peace of mind.  There's only this satisfactory state of mind, where maybe you don't think about your relapse possibilities for a day or two.  Or maybe you don't think about the fact that your hair isn't growing back.  Or that your sense of smell is as keen as it was the last time they loaded you with that bag of Ifosfamide, so everyone around you smells like shit.  

The majority of you probably have no idea what I'm talking about.  But if you're a cancer victim, you sure as hell do. And hopefully, you hate this attempt to completely destroy Lance Armstrong's character just as much as I do.  He made a mistake.  He's a-f**king-llowed.  Maybe this mistake was a pretty god damn big one, but to discredit him for everything he's done for cancer patients and survivors on this planet is just plain ignorant. 

It's been hard for me to bite my tongue when I hear people make flippant remarks or online comments about how Lance is a despicable person, or that he has ruined everything he stood for--or (my personal favorite), when people say that he has tainted the name of Livestrong.  Because I promise you, he has not.  

I know it sounds cliche, and lax, and small-minded compared to the situation at hand, but everyone makes mistakes, and NO ONE is perfect.  No one is.  Not even me.  I pick my nose far too much.

There's this stigma in today's world that cancer survivors are these inspirational people who have fresh, positive perspectives on life.  Let me tell you, the pressure to feel that way is hard to deal with.  Especially when I consider the fact that if cancer has taught me anything about life, it's that life is a piece of shit, and will continually supply with copious amounts of shit.  The fact that people expect me to radiate inspiration and wisdom is taxing.  Maybe it was that sort of pressure that influenced Lance's poor choices.  I dunno.  I'm not gonna make excuses for him.  But while you can take away his medals or pom poms or whatever the hell you get for winning a glorified bike riding contest, you cannot take away his survivorship, and fact that he's a fighter.

Lastly, I will say this: condemn the action, not the person.  For me, Lance Armstrong will always be a hero.  Always.  And so will Lance Bass.  And so will Peter Pan.  And so will Peter Brady.

Keep reading my shit, and stop talking shit on Lance.

Jesse

Guest Writer: Mike Mort!

"Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

I have been changed for good..."

-"For Good"(2003) from Wicked.

My name is Mike Mort and I met Jesse a few years back at a Make-A-Wish Foundation event. After a wonderful video presentation about her wish (which was super cool), she sang For Good from the show Wicked, her singing absolutely blew me away and I thought to myself, "I have to meet this girl!". From that point on we were instantly friends, I guess having to deal with some heavy shit in our lives gave us some common ground and an unspoken understanding of what matters in life. 

I am 21 and I am living Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Because of this I use a wheelchair and am on a ventilator. Though my health may not be so great and my future is quite uncertain, I'm pretty damn happy considering, and I have striven to not let my circumstances define my personality. In my life I take pride in the fact that I volunteer for Make-A-Wish Central New York as their Social Media Manager, I also am a blogger thanks to Jesse, who motivated me to start writing a blog of my own after reading hers. I'm a huge film enthusiast and love music, also a good conversation can occupy me for hours (as Jesse can attest).

I am sometimes told by others how inspiring I am. This I personally disagree with. I feel that I aim to just live my life and that giving up is just not an option. In my opinion, overcoming adversity is not a matter of pure strength and perseverance but instead more of being able to adapt to what life throws at you.

Over the years I've picked a few little bits of wisdom here and there here's some I would like to share:

People are the fruit of life, some are sweat and some are bitter but they all sustain our souls like a full stomach.

Life is not easy for anyone, everyone has their cross to bear but how they see fit to deal with it is what matters.

Life is short and time is long, everything can change in an instant and an instant can change you, for a lifetime can lived in that moment.

Regardless of the philosophical thoughts that I sometimes spout, I am just a regular guy, more often than would probably like, I worry about stupid shit and I'm definitely not shy to the concept of being an asshole to people sometimes. Though my view of humanity is pretty high, the ignorant things people say to me in public never ceases to amaze me, if I have to hear one more quip about driving the speed limit I'm going to throw up! 

Thanks for reading, you can follow my blog at:

manmythmike.blogspot.com

Thank you for letting me hijack your blog this week, Jesse! Much love! 

Don't Drive Like An Ass.

Hello all.  I know I said I would faithfully be posting on Wednesdays now, but we had no WiFi in my Pittsburgh house, and to be perfectly honest, I am way too lazy to carry this laptop somewhere where there's free WiFi seeing as I don't have a weightless little Mac.  I could have posted on my iPhone, but seeing as it takes me about 15 minutes to compose a brief text message, it probably would have taken until now anyway.  So I apologize, but please show some mercy.
   I had this whole thing planned where I was gonna write about how I'm gonna be a wonderful, new little person with the new year, but then I thought...no I'm not.  And regardless, that would be boring.  So it was back to the drawing board...until I left for Pittsburgh.
   Now...bear with me because the drive to Pittsburgh from Syracuse is seriously as boring as it sounds.  Probably even more.  It is long, dull, and you can only listen to "I Knew You Were Trouble" so many times before you actually consider pulling over to a rest stop parking lot and waiting to be abducted.
    But for real...I can't tell you how many times I felt like rolling down the window and screaming "NO MATTER HOW CLOSE YOU DRIVE BEHIND ME, I AM NOT GOING TO DRIVE ANY FASTER THAN THIS."  I drive an old Buick, the door doesn't close all the way, so the faster you go, the more wind you have blowing in your ear, and I've already had a foot in the grave once in my life.  Not to mention I'm a law abiding citizen, god dammit!
   So that pissed me off.  And then of course, someone merging onto the thruway didn't yield because he was sending a text message.  Now seriously.  I don't mean to get all old woman preachy and PSA-like, but driving a car is like driving a huge, giant, death machine.  And now that I have an iPhone like the rest of the freaking world, I know of its seductive charms.  But seriously.  Put it the f*** down when you're driving.  It's not worth it.  It's really not.  And if you're expecting an important message, PULL THE HELL OVER.
   Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I was learning to drive, and getting ready to schedule a road test and all that.  But then when the shit hit the fan, I obviously stopped.  No one likes a vomiting bitch in a Christine Daae wig driving a car on the highway.  So when I finished chemo, I was an 18 year-old, stuck at home while her friends were in college and her family went back to school and work--and I was immobile.  I was stuck at the house.  My mom kept urging me and pushing me to get my license but after everything I'd gone through--I felt like learning to drive was just willingly putting myself back in harm's way.  I didn't like the idea of having my own life and the lives of others at stake based upon my own judgement and driving and the driving of others.  It seemed terrifying.  It was like when my parents urged me to ask for a Disney cruise for my Make-A-Wish.  I was like...exactly what I need: with the luck I've had, I'll beat cancer only to hit an ice berg or something, and die a watery death at the bottom of the Atlantic.  Sounds great.  But seriously--that's how scary driving felt to me.
   But I needed to get out of the freaking house...so I did it.  Reluctantly.  It's amazing to me how eager and excited sixteen year-olds get about getting their license.  They had to take me kicking and screaming to that road test.  I'm still an apprehensive driver.
   Fast forward to today, and not only have I had my bout with the C-word, but I've also had two tires pop while driving on a major highway, that sent me swerving into a ditch.  Needless to say, I no longer drive faster than 65 miles an hour.  I'm one of those people that you pass on the highway.  I'm one of those people who won't answer or even look at messages while I'm driving.  I'm one of those drivers who annoys the shit out of you.  I also A) Don't get pulled over, and B) am somewhat safer in my car than a speed demon texting at the wheel.
    In conclusion--remember that when you get into the driver's seat, you are taking on a HUGE responsibility to yourself and to others.  As stupid and irritating as I am sounding to myself right now, please don't text and drive, please don't tailgate, and please don't drive ridiculously faster than the speed limit.  (And if you have ever even THOUGHT of drinking and driving, I don't even want you reading my effing blog).

Don't be selfish.  Drive safely.

<3Jesse

PS>>>Wednesday there'll be a guest post by my friend Mike Mort, and you can find my writing this Monday on his blog http://www.manmythmike.blogspot.com/
Just a little experiment we're doing to vary our readers!