My home movies losing to Shakespeare in Love would have been a fucking travesty.

Most likely. I like in a small, podunk, agricultural town an hour away from anywhere good. I also need to pay the HandiBus people only by cheque (Canadian) or cash to take me to the city to my cancer-related appointments. I opt for cheque so I don’t have to worry about getting to a bank or having exact change.

I do! Because I have to pay the plumber or electrician or small appliance guy or furnace guy when something craps out in my house (I got double-barreled by both the electrician and plumber last week). Tradespeople don’t usually take credit cards and I don’t keep that much cash in the house.

I was a little bit dead last year when my heart stopped after a chemo treatment. 

I laughed at this harder than was seemly. 

Wilf 

I was just told three days ago that, after a year out of chemo, the numbers for my tumour markers are up (ovarian cancer) and now I have to wait for a CT/PET scan to find out what’s going on. Your comment made me burst into tears. I’m so, so sorry your little family lost its wife and mom.

Two things:

Thanks, House. 

giving them the tools they need to behave better

Why is her personal life anyone’s business?

Oh, call me Deb :)

Offer $10 to make a to-go plate with rice plus 1-2 items from the buffet and people would be breaking the door down to get in there.

I actually do look down on people like you, you know that?

I said the same thing last year when I saw a recipe for deep-fried stuffing balls during the holidays. “First, take two cups of leftover stuffing...” Leftover whatnow?

Me, too. I must have read that book a dozen times as a kid. I still think about that potato exploding and hitting Almanzo in the eye every once in awhile (poke holes in those potatos!) And this year, in the garden, I thought about Manny winning the prize for ‘Best Pumpkin,’ at a fair and feeling the need to confess…

I lost a lot of weight in the past 18 months (ovarian cancer, so, boooooo. I’d rather be fat) so, for the first time in years I’m having to shop for clothes. A lot of them. Allllll kinds. From my skivvies on outwards. And let me tell you, it is a goddamn nightmare. Why does this bra fit in this size, but this one doesn…

I own those black shoes

And then there was all that Laura Ashley bullshit in the 80s. Long, high necks, same sort of frills, maybe some lace fringe. Which, not gonna lie, I secretly loved, but just couldn’t afford, so I camouflaged my seething jealousy with disdain.