zima in the can please.

March 1, 2013

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my pants would burst into flames if i said your generosity stunned me. 

two nights ago i dreamt i called the police on myself for airbrushing my passport photo.

lying isn’t a shot i swig down handily.

so what i’m trying to say is, yes, you ARE too old for that haircut

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henceforth, my lovely readers, my friends and family, i can’t really tell you i’m “surprised” at your response to my cycle for survival ride, which happens to go down in 24 hours.

you are all top shelf human beings; who’s everyday kindness and generosity makes me feel like the tiny, unruly cricket that i am; squeaking in your ear like so.

i expected your support; what i did NOT anticipate was your over-the-top, largesse in donations.

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and because of that i am overcome with a swelling heart. a heart that each day abounds bigger, rounder, with more open doors and chairs so that we all have a place to party.

we still have one more day of fundraising, and our team is so close to our goal. so if you know anyone or any businesses that may want to help we are taking donations until tomorrow {saturday} morning. no donation is too small. 

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i’m more than freaked out to teach tomorrow. i don’t even want to know how many people will be there. thank god the bike is stationary.

just curious, how inappropriate do you think it be to show up drunk?

 ok, yes very bad idea. besides do they even make zima anymore? {my drink of choice.}

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instead of booze i will buzz high on open-mouth smiles, bittersweet tears, exalted fists in the air, and the elation of getting one step closer to beating mother-effin’ cancer!

here’s to progress m’loves.

see you on the other side of sunday.

love,

katie

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