Moving and meeting memorable Marys

There are a lot of memorable Marys in my life.

My mother’s name is Mary. There’s Mary Bo Peep. That Mary all those people pray to and that sometimes appears on trees.

But today I was quite fortunate to have met another memorable Mary. We only spoke on the phone 15 minutes and seven seconds but I haven’t been able to forget the things she said to me.

Mary is 63 and was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago. Around the same time, her sister was diagnosed with colon cancer.

“I am really pleased that this horrible experience with my sister and I having cancer at the same time has brought our family closer. We’re all so far apart geographically,” she told me.

It’s not often you hear the word pleased and having cancer in the same sentence. But she told me at the beginning of the interview, she has always been an optimistic person.

“I don’t really think that I’ve changed a whole lot. I’ve always been an optimistic person and I still am. You tend to value each day a little more than you used to. You get the possibility of mortality every day and that’s frightening but then you realize you can certainly still fight.”

This sort of positivity is truly impressive. And it reminded me of my cousin’s. She was the exact same way. I swear this girl would pretty much have parties to cheer her friends up about the cancer she was fighting. She basically had a “beat cancer” campaign that politicians and vegans everywhere would be jealous of.

In a year, I’ll be her age.

But she inspires me all the time. In the same way, Mary inspired me today.

I felt a bop on my head and like the lights had finally come on when Mary was talking to me about going through chemo. How she had to go through it for six months in the beginning, and then on-and-off after that. She talked about the things you realize.

“Chemo is very hard. You don’t know what tired is.”

I asked her what advice she would give to new patients. At the very end of her answer, it sounded as if her tone had changed from giving advice to new patients to just giving advice.

“And I would say, do as much physical exercise as you can do. If all you can do is walk to the mailbox, then you walk there. Because the day after that, you’ll be able to walk to the corner. And the day after that, you will be able to walk around the block, and that helps a lot with your mental outlook.”

I just moved to Riverside, California for a new job and I hadn’t written since my move. I had thought about it a lot but picking up your life and moving to a new city where you have never been and you don’t know anyone and starting a new job in the same circumstances, well. That makes a person tired. Or so I thought, until today.

I hope some Mary inspires you someday.


Of mice and dog (and snakes): A tale of honor, survival and lunch

I have snakes.


My mother thinks I’m a freak. But snakes can be really cool pets.


I am kind of a freak though and I like to feed them live mice. I know a lot of snake owners disagree about this because of the risk of the snakes getting hurt by the mice. I know that sounds odd but the little suckers have sharp claws. Anyway, I do check them to make sure they aren’t being hurt and are tended to if they do receive a cut.

There’s this cute little shop called Animal Palace where I get them. I like to support local businesses and they also have great natural (and affordable) dog food. That’s right I have a dog, too.

Meet Orbison Pedro III


He reminds me of Odie

This shop is pretty neat because I never know what I will find there.

So I finally stopped fooling around in the store and I bought some mice. I got home and promptly realized I had something I forgot to do. I left the bag with the mice on a table and felt confident they would be okay. The bag has air holes and is stapled shut so there isn’t really a way out. And in my experience they usually just go to sleep or huddle to devise an escape plan.

Well, I was shocked to find this when I got back.


I remember thinking they had made more ruckus than other mice but I never thought they would seriously plan an escape! I mean I have to give it up to that guy. Oh yeah, only one was brave enough to escape. The other one was still in the bag. I looked everywhere for it but I knew it wouldn’t be easy to find a little mouse in my apartment.

It was getting late so I figured I would just have to lure a cat inside tomorrow or something. I still stayed up thinking about this mouse. I couldn’t get him or her out of my head. Let’s call it Stan.

Stan had been a fighter from the beginning. He never settled down. And who knows, maybe the other mouse was telling him to stop it and just accept his fate. But Stan was no quitter! He knew if he just nibbled away enough he could break through and attain freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom.

Sadly, Stan also met Orbison today.

I’m really proud of my dog. He has a rep for being kind of apathetic. He’s an easy-going dog. He likes looking out the window, eating cheese and having his belly rubbed. But aside from his occasional menacing growl at the school children running around my apartment complex, he’s pretty harmless. But today he proved something. He showed his cunning skill and virtuousness for not eating the mouse. He brought himself great honor among the snakes despite the tragedy that bestowed our unlucky friend.

This blog is in memory of Stan. He went out giving it his all.