Okay, so now I've completely gone over the edge.A HA hahahahahah

I am trying to buy a house. I found some trail's end places, so that they cost less than renting, damnit !!! Some are in volatile neighborhoods, so noooooooooo, but some aren't. $30,000  or less houses. I went to scope one out and liked it though it is trashed. Give me something to do. And, as I cannot get life insurance and have nothing to leave the four kids, well, it just might be a better idea than I had thought.

I have construction tools and know how and should be able to do what needs doing in these places. Also, most are NOT landscaped and I could definitely turn that around. I need something to do or I will go  mad.

So, I went to see a loan officer and I told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, except the part about dying, hehehehehe. Sure, my chemo is finished and I am fine now.............ha.

He said that with my checks coming in monthly and a co-signer, we could be in business. Hmmmmmm, who would be fool enough to co-sign ?!?!?!? That is the next challenge. Not anyone in my older family, the stable ones who could, as they all get really funny faces going when I talk about this. Maybe I can intimidate a child to do it, sigh..........not really, but someone.
I have friends, who when they heard about this outrageous dream, began to collect money for me to put towards a down payment. Wonderful friends, huh? I told them to hang onto the funds as I might just get shot down at the last minute and have to face other, more terrible realities.

I am like my brother's MIL, who when she heard that she had to move into assisted living, went bonkers and tried to think of a thousand ways to get  out of it, but no one would help her, sooooooo, she's going. But, she has dementia or terrible forgetfulness and is blind now.

I am almost as strong as I was before I got sick and this may last awhile, especially if I can get things to do and not SIT in this damned recliner in Mom's house, diminishing daily, I'm melting, I'm melting said the wicked old witch. Then, I wouldn't have to put down my doggie which no one wants and who should not have to die because I am. I Might actually be able to hang on for three more years and give her a normal life span then......damn.

Uh oh, this is turning into  a NOT funny entry. Gotta quit and go look at more houses and begin to bring up co-signers around the kids and family and  friends more. Hmm,  how to begin that conversation? Do you already have an FHA loan? Those who do cannot help  me.

Made a video called Cancer Glam for those who feel not so pretty.......it's silly, but the next ones should get better. I am still laughing at myself, at the world and its foibles and my own personal insanity points, cada quien con su locura, so it ain't all bad, huh?

The Ghillie Suit, just read about them. The designer in me wants to have fun.

One of my concerns, as in a t.v. script of how to pull this off, is to keep family at bay until I can fly. That was when my Hemlock Society sister told me about the Ghillie Suit.  I will have to go to Google Earth more to check out jumping points off the Grand Canyon's edges and then decide on which Ghillie suit best suits the landscape.

Now, the reason for the ghillie suit is, that the family might discover that I am gone, suspect my final destination and follow me or have others look for me. In a ghillie suit, well, the flying squirrel will remain hidden until everyone leaves.
I have to think of everything as my family is very astute and I have discussed my plans just often enough, that they probably believe me by now.

So, I choose the day and I leave the minute the last person goes to bed, drive up there all night long and arrive before dawn. Scout locations and have a good time imagining the final rush to the bottom.

I do realize that I must begin to work out and get my arms and legs working well so that I can hold that flying squirrel pose.............

Is it just me??????!?!?!!!!!!!

I have been perusing houses and apartments for rent all night long and now all morning long.

See. I did NOT die after being diagnosed near death, soooooooooo I am feeling much better than I have in  a long time and now I want to do things again, IF indeed I am to be around awhile longer.

I find myself looking for $350 places or less. What I'm thinking is, to leave this house each morning at 7:00a.m. with Baby until I can place her and working at the other place like a studio, all day, into the night, until near Mom's bed time, sigh.

I would put a recliner and a cd player for library audio books, radio, my clay, a table, my paints and supplies and my sewing machine and supplies.

I have already applied for a job assembling jewelry for a lady in my home. Added money. I am trying to get my brother to let me do his billing for him for a few dollars extra a month and then will make things to sell, undistracted and silent for hours on end.

I don't ask for much anymore, just a place to feel okay about myself and I cannot right now. Silly overly sensitive me, I'm sure, but I want my woman cave back..........I have a squirrel suit and many tutus to make.

Envisioning The Squirrel Suit

Had lunch with a friend who is starting up a bit of business with me, trying to get me more money, so that maybe someday I can have my own place again, if I live long enough, that is.

My macabre sense of humor caught her and dragged her around the restaurant and made her laugh out loud. She added to the conversation, making me laugh loudly, too.

I ordered Quesadillas at La Parilla Suiza on Speedway, hoping that a toothless me could eat them. I ate one with  wonderful guacamole, pico de gallo, tomatillo verde sauce, and left the other as it became too much for me, though the quesadilla was only about 4 inches across. The Dos Equis Dark made up for everything. It also loosened my tongue as I rarely drink.

I just had another beer, same brew,  now at 2:00 a.m. and it has made me write.

When I began to talk about how I wanted to die, she mentioned something called The 5 Wishes and said that I need to read about them and write them down for family, but that is in case a person plans on hanging around awaiting the end surrounded by loved ones, circling their bed. I am not so sure that I want to go that route. I spoke of jumping off the highest point of the Grand Canyon with a plastic bagged note saying who I was, etc. so that no one had to identify me..............to save them the sorrow. If I could pull it off well, I might never be found, best case scenario.

Then I spoke of Wiley Coyote going over the edge in cartoons and how he and Goofy and others, in that grand cartoon tradition, shout, "Wa hoo hooooooooooooo", all the way down until they hit and a small burst of dust rises.

We talked of bungee jumping and other wild things to do before dying. I would never do those crazy things, I said. They kill you. A HA hahahahahah.

But, as I had once painted a lovely dragon suit for a friend who was parachuting for the first time, I thought about that. Making a fabulous suit for the Canyon jump became the next topic. That took me to what I have always really wanted to do, fly with those wild men in squirrel suits who jump off of mountain tops and buzz their friends on the way down the mountain.........as they freely fly. So, if you people contribute enough, I find that I can now fly for from $500 to $2,000, it said on the video. A HA hahahahahahah. Sure, contributions now being accepted. Those fellows are strong and I am not, so sustaining those open wings, etc. might prove to be my greatest challenge.

So, as artists we began to discuss the look of the actual imagined flying suit. Real squirrel ears in silk, to make less resistance. A tail of tiny pieces of silk to look tail like, but to not change the actual dynamics of the suit and its ability to fly.  And then we discussed my final flight, the dialogue or internal monologue and the fancy moves that I would make on my way down.............until the final 'point my hands together in a swimming dive' and farewell.

I had such a great time at lunch. I love my friends, gathered over the years, most having the same attitudes as I do about many things, but not all things. My dying, living Navajo friend is about to hit town again and we shall laugh until we pee our pants over our irreverent death plans or scenarios, out of our control. I laughed so hard during his last visit from Shiprock that I thought that I might die right then from choking with laughter.

Life is short, my  car door magnets from VistaPress or printing or whatever, arrived. I had them put LIFE IS VERY SHORT. Love One Another. Damn It !! on the magnets.  I gave one to today's friend and shall give one to my sister who belongs to the Hemlock Society, I may need her soon, dunno.

So, damn it, LOVE one another. Good. Spread the word.

Now accepting design ideas for my squirrel costume. And accepting donations for materials to make it. I'm broke. Heheheheheheh

A Friend Suggested Working the Head

Macabre sense of humor. I told her that everyone is being so nice to me now that I am bald and dying of cancer, fixing my car for free, sending me gifts. etc. She told me to hit the streets and  "work my head" to get even more gifts and favors, etc., sort of a  Walking Dying Wish  Persona. We joked about what a person like me wanted or needed or would just greatly appreciate now that the end is nigh and laughed so hard, being very irreverent.

But, thinking about it all seriously, there is truly nothing that I want or need or must have before I die. Bummer. Now when I was well, I had a long list of things. The world changes.

I suppose that I want what all of us want, or want for awhile, and that is more time, much more time on Earth to interact with those that we love and will miss terribly, if we could miss anyone after death.

I think that I should do that angiogenic diet for added time, but can't seem to get it together to do that. Need a cook to do it for me. The chemo seems to not work as well as at first, dunno. Just floating down the river of life, missing things already, that are still here. How silly is that ???!?!?

Most of what I think that I want to do with my time involves working my  butt off and that just makes me laugh, as that is what I did my whole life.......but, when I lay around feeling bad or wiped out, I feel guilty, though I am getting better about that....embrace what is, doing that now.

What a shallow entry, but I must be shallow to write it........... A HA hahahahahahah.

So, You are told that you are dying

Well, truth be told, we are all dying. We all know it and we all ignore it. Big deal, I'm dying or shall die one day. The fact that someone or some group of someones dare to put a date to it, changes the game.  I now have an expiration date only it's too vague to discuss.

When I ask someone or a group of someones to give me a better idea of what time is left, I get even more vague
answers
 and I have just gotten worn down.
 I don't ask anymore.

It is like trying to get diagnosed. You go to this doctor and that doctor and you explain and they believe that you know nothing about your own body. They nod and do what they want, spend your hard earned money on tests which find nothing.

You either run out of money, as I did often, or you run out of patience with the doctors and step away from their irritated looks of, " What do you want me to do then?" as you wander off mumbling, "Eat shit and die, maybe?" But, we are all civilized and it never gets to the point of speaking real words.

I  awoke on November 3, 2005 with the beginnings of hell inside my body. I wandered here and there from one doctor to another, one test to another and periodically gave up in either despair or poverty. I had no insurance. I turned into a whiner who was not allowed to whine. It can make you crazy. It did me.

When something was finally found, it was because I had gotten pneumonia in November of 2010 and been hospitalized with it in December. One chest x-ray later and I have an expiration date. Stage IV lung cancer.

Soooooooooooooooo, here we are and dying is not for sissies. First, my landlord decided, after nine years, to sell his house which I was renting. I had made no money and it just seemed easier, being weak and ill and at the mercy of those around me, to be moved into my mother's house. My things are in a storage shed.

I am in her 'bodega' and living out of boxes. I have not really moved in and cannot really move out. My biggest dog had a nervous breakdown over the whole move and changes and now I have to give her away. She and I are leaves in a wilderness riverbed. Tourists in drug cartel territory.

She may have an expiration date, too, if I cannot find someone to take her and love her as I have all these years.

And my mind turns to art work. I would like to make some money and maybe move out !?!?!?!? So far, these thoughts are meaningless clouds passing before my lazy hazy brain as I stare up at the sky and wonder....