What a weekend. I’ve had good weekends before and never felt the need to blog about them but this weekend was different and I think I’ll tell you why.

I knew all week I’d need to be distracted for the weekend. The wound in my heart is still too fresh to sit at home and dwell on things. Since I have the greatest friends in the world, I had a few things lined up but I still found myself waking up on Saturday morning weary about how my day looked surprisingly bare. My old and dear friend, Kenny, called and asked me to do a ride with him. Now, ever since I’ve had the bike, every time I see Kenny I get “we should go on a ride sometime” but the ride never happens. I was stoked and jumped at the opportunity. Only snag.. the destination was about 2 seconds from Johnny’s house. Crap. I struggled with that for a while and decided that I’m going cuz I can. I’m not going to lie; it was weird being out there. I almost felt like I didn’t belong and was nervous he’d see me and think I was a stalker or worse, not honoring my promise to leave him alone (long story). But once I got past that it was an AWESOME day! Kenny and I met in Somers and drove to pick one of his friends up. From there the three of us went to some bar in Willington and picked up two more guys. I have never rode in a group more than like two or three so I was looking forward to the ride and a little nervous about it at the same time. Some stuff, like stop signs and getting onto main roads were scary in a group cuz you just got to go and stay tight but other than that.. the feeling of 5 loud bad ass bikes floating down the road is amazing. I mean, my bike alone is loud enough for me but five of them? Firkin awesome. We ended up at a bar called the Bach Dor in Chaplin. I’ve driven by here many times and often thought about how odd the concept of a biker bar was. I mean, it’s not a great idea to mix booze and bikes but.. I had a great time anyway (I didn’t booze it up). We hung for a while and cruised home (right past Johnny’s house, what a firkin coincidence). I saw parts of CT I hadn’t before, got some fresh air and made a few new friends.. Saturday night I had dinner with my good friend Brad and we met up with Meredith at Rookies for an Aquanett show. As always, it’s great to see Aquanett. Even if the bar was hot and way too crowded, we all had a good time.. My Saturday was successfully filled and killed. Thank you friends!

Sunday was shopping with Mom and a family dinner of Mac n Cheese.. yum! I got to spend some quality time with my niece, Katelyn (she fell asleep on me and I was told I was suck with her, poor me).

I’m in an interesting place right now. Having recently been through a break up, I’ve been doing my best to stay positive and not sink into depression. I think I’ve been successful but I still took a hit. Physically the hit I took was in my guts. My belly doesn’t like stress and apparently I’ve been stressed. This week I’m expecting my period too. Every month is hard to deal with because PMS mimics the symptoms I’m constantly on guard for in terms of relapse (fatigue, bruising..). I didn’t even hesitate, I got my CBC this morning cuz I think I deserve a little piece of mind, no? This has been on my mind for a few days now and like always, I do my best at beating it away with a bat but rarely am I successful.. I’ve found myself thinking about the whole live for today idea a lot lately. I’ve never been a patient person and have never enjoyed waiting for anything. Waiting is a wasted action. I refuse to wait my life away. What does that mean? It means that I’m constantly in a race to do things and experience new stuff before it’s too late. I feel like I’m playing beat the clock. I don’t think many people understand this. People say they do, but then can’t seem to understand why I’m always going (or at least why I want to be always going). This is a direct result of being a survivor. If my CBC were to come back with bad news, I’d be in the hospital tomorrow. There is no cushion time to play with. I need to do what I need to do and I need to do it today. When I started dating Johnny, my family could see how happy I was and my Dad said “at least she’ll get a few years/months of happiness” (interpreted as at least she’ll get to be happy before she dies). Not that my Dad is a wizard with tact but I know what he was saying. I want to stick as many kick ass awesome days as I can in. I don’t believe I’m going to die anytime soon but at the same time, AML has a 50% survival/relapse rate (and that’s generous depending on where you look). Is it wrong to think realistically I don’t have as good of a chance to live into my golden years as someone else w/out leukemia? Is it morbid to think like that? I think it’s responsible.. but it still feels like a game of beat the clock.. On your mark.. get set..