I'm in a surprisingly good mood today. The boy and I are switching off pup duties today, which is making this day a lot more effective than I thought would happen. I'm pretty excited. This is our first Christmas in our new home with our new dog. This holiday means a lot to me because of so many reasons. First one is the fact this is our first Christmas in our home. I told my parents that I would come up for Christmas dinner tomorrow and passed on festivities tonight. I want to spend as much time in my home as possible with my boyfriend and my little pup. Last year, my sweetie and I went to my parents' house for Christmas. This year, I'm looking forward to creating new traditions with my boyfriend in our house because something special like this only happens once.
Besides, my dad is going to retire soon, and him and his wife will move away before I know it. I have to get used to them not being around anymore, and time to start devoting my time to the family I chose, not the one I was born into. Let's face it. I'm long past the age where the family I was born into really cares the way I want them to. My three siblings all have spouses and families, and never ever will I be a high priority for any of them, cancer be damned. I'm far from a perfect sibling either - I've demonstrated a great deal of ambivalence toward them too. Absence makes the heart grow.... indifferent? I wish my friends Amber and Twin lived closer. That would have made this Christmas absolutely perfect if I could spend it with my sweetie, as well as my brother from another mother (and father)'s awesome family.
Lastly, of course this holiday is important to me because of my cancer schamncer. Every holiday, birthday, milestone after being diagnosed means a lot to me. It's like my special way of telling cancer "Fuck you. My life is still awesome." Cancer has taken a lot but because of it, I've made some awesome friends and fellow cancer warrirors (Hi Jo, Tashi and Nikki).
Also - in case anybody was wondering - I'm not bummed about my lack of hair. Fuck it. It's just hair. Cancer has definitely changed my perspective on life. Before, I never in a million years would have cut my hair this short. Now, I'm completley ambivalent about looking like a boy. My hair will come back. My looks don't matter in the grand scheme of things - the only thing that matters is killing cancer. Killing it good. I'm going to look mannish, sickly in the next couple of months and I'm okay with it. If my looks make anybody uncomfortable because I'm a 5'5 reminder of death and cancer, then that's their problem. Depending on my mood, I might be evil and make whoever is uncomfortable around me even more uncomfortable. Haha. RUB MY BALD HEAD. LOOK INTO MY CANCERY EYES.