I’m No Rocket Scientist… but let’s try and launch this book

But first, how about an aperitif? Cheers and thanks to my fab friend Cara who blogged about a certain cartoon character on the cover of Shaken Not Stirred… a Chemo Cocktail calling me, and I quote, “Champagne Girl of the Week”! (Click here for the link.)

Cara’s currently shaking and stirring up quite a perfect storm on the interwebs via her blog, The Champagne Diet, and her upcoming book, The Champagne Diaries: Rules and Cocktail Recipes for Living an Effervescent Life. Go Cara! I feel pretty tipsy getting to be your champagne girl of the week! Now that’s a title I can put on a lampshade and dance to!

Speaking of lampshades, I probably won’t be wearing one at the book launch parties coming up next weekend. Mostly because I don’t want to mess up my hair. But anyway, here are the details:

On Friday, December 9, I’ll be at Book Bums from 7pm-9pm. I wrote quite a lot of my book sitting on my bum while sipping on Highlander Grog Coffee in this cutest little Cheers of a coffee shop in West Chester. Live music will be provided by The Kicked-in Fence (aka my Redheads). I’ll do a reading at 8pm and yes, the Redheads will perform the “Cancer is a Bitch” song. I’ll be happy to sign books and I’ll even share the Grog. Click here to view the Facebook event.

On Sunday, December 11, I’ll be doing a reading and book signing at Art Design Consultants, the “Gallery in the Sky” where we recently hosted The SCAR Project Cincy Exhibit. Live music will be provided by The Kicked-in Fence. I’ll do a reading at 8pm, my Redheads will sing the “Cancer is a Bitch” song, and we’ll have books available to sell and sign. Click here to view the Facebook event. The event is free but please click here to RSVP because there will cocktails and light apps served.

I hope you can make it to one, the other, or both if you feel like it, so we can clink coffee mugs or wine glasses together and launch this book proper. “To the moon, Alice!”

First Champagne Bottle of the Day

You’ve heard about Pinocchio, the Velveteen Rabbit, and probably even Bill… but once upon a time there was this book that I kept talking about writing (for like 9 months) and then went on and on about editing (for like 9 more months)… and well, this is where that champagne bottle comes in handy. And I’m not talking about smashing the bottle on my book like it’s some kind of a yacht.

1. It seems like a waste of champagne.
2. What if Nemo finds some of the broken glass and gets hurt?
3. It would get the pages of my book all wet.

What I’m talking about, rather, is that it’s five o’clock where I am because here I am, holding my very own real live book!

Yeah, I figure you just looked at your watch, not to mention the posting time on this post and then you re-read the title (which clearly foreshadows another bottle of champagne) and now you’re probably all worried about me putting an eye out with all those popping corks, and are most likely pulling out your cell phones to dial up the triple (burp) oops, I mean double A for me. But hold on just a second… I’m not as think as you drunk I am. And anyway, I do in fact have a valid poetic license to wield that five o’clock at whim.

With that said, it’s time to pop a cork, pour the bubbly and let it overflow a bit. Because SHAKEN NOT STIRRED… A CHEMO COCKTAIL is now a real live book! Here’s the birth announcement, I mean, when it was Facebook official:

At 12:34 on 11/11/11 I just pressed publish. Whoa. It’s on CreateSpace now; will take 5-7 days to show up on Amazon.com. How fun not to mention freaking poetic is that?! Take that, cancer. BAM

Fast forward three days, to somewhere around five o’clock on the 14th of November and here’s the Bar Mitzvah announcement when SHAKEN NOT STIRRED… A CHEMO COCKTAIL came of age and got listed on Amazon (AKA Nirvana):

Whoa…just whoa…Amafreakingzon!! Not gonna lie, I feel a little bit like Steve Martin’s character in The Jerk, when he finally made it into the phone book: “The new phone books are here! The new phone books are here!” (Click here to see the classic scene.)

And yeah, that’s about pretty much how it went down at the Evanshire when I popped open this box:

Minus, of course, the sniper. Unless, of course, you’re also waving your poetic license around, in which case the sniper is obviously a metaphor for cancer and chemo. Which I think is pretty clever on your part. So well done!

And now that I’ve buttered you up, if you feel like ordering a copy of my book by click here. And just know this, every time somebody presses “Add to Cart” on Amazon, the proverbial champagne cork pops and the bubbles start overflowing. So thanks for that. It’s pretty freaking fabulous of you.

Cheers and love,

Joules

Where Are All The Tennis Balls?

I’m pretty fast when it comes to chasing tennis balls. I’ve been called “The Energizer Bunny” by some of my opponents. Others have told me I’m like a mosquito at the net—at which point I have to mentally disengage my super imagination powers so as not to see their racquets coming at me as giant fly swatters.

The point is, I’ve been conditioned since music class in elementary school to follow the bouncing ball.

Therefore I have never been a runner…until now. Well, I’m almost a runner but not quite. Close though.

My license plate says “Eat. Sleep. Tennis.” And that’s pretty much how things roll with me and my gang in the Evanshirehood. Normally. But you know me and normal. Hardly ever on the same page, let alone in the same sentence connected by a conjunction junction whose function is to hook up words and make them function and such. Anyway, it was recently brought to my attention that I have barely graced the poor tennis courts behind the Evanshire this summer. Last Thursday I hosted a girls night out and invited my long lost tennis girlfriends. When they started arriving at the door with bottles of wine they all had this similar look on their faces. It was like they were trying to place where they’d seen me before.

It’s understandable. After I finished writing my manuscript, SHAKEN NOT STIRRED…A CHEMO COCKTAIL, I decided to take off this spring and summer, from my tennis addiction, to focus on editing and publishing my book. (And promoting The SCAR Project coming to Cincinnati this fall, which has been crazy busy fun.) So that’s why my tennis girlfriends were being so ridiculous, acting like we were meeting for the first time, and as if the wine bottles were house warming gifts, instead of a case of catching up.

Good times.

While working on my book and with the SCAR Project I’ve also been doing a lot of soul searching. Trying to figure out what to do with this second chance I’ve been given. Life, take two. What. A. Gift.

I’ve been digging deep into celebrating that gift, living out loud, laughing from the belly, spending myself loving God and others, following my Redheads chasing their dreams, and having the time of my life chasing down my own by writing a book. It’s my postcard from the other side of cancer/chemo to my survivor sisters. Been there, done that, had to buy a new t-shirt, wish they were here, on this side, too.

But wishing doesn’t seem like it’s nearly enough.

I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m still here is there is still more I’m supposed to do. I have this keychain I picked up at the Race for the Cure that says, “I am the Cure.” It eggs me on to do something. Like I said, I’m trying to figure out what.

All I know is that my daughter Amanda is supposed to start having mammograms when she is 23 because of me. She turns 21 in January.

Maybe I started running because I’m in a hurry. There’s something terribly encouraging about forward motion. Even if it’s something as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.

I have a 4-mile course in my neighborhood. One of these days I’m going to run the whole thing and in the process will have psyched my body into thinking a 5K is a piece of cake. This is a goal of mine. But it’s easier said than done. First I’m going to have to run up the Oregon Pass hill.

One thing I’ve learned about running, is that running downhill is way more fun that running uphill. I generally walk up the hills. But even then I have to channel my little engine when it comes to Oregon Pass.

I know I could easily flip my course, with Oregon Pass on the downhill, but we have speed limits in our neighborhood.

The hardest thing about running is breathing. Sometimes I forget to. Then when I think about it too hard I forget how. I’m working on this. Trying to pace myself, find a relaxed running form, spend time praying for my peeps which makes me happy thinking about them, and keeping my eyes wide open for beauty and breathing deeply as I take it in.

Continuing my 1000 gifts, here are some of the beautiful things on my runs:

#134 the song, “Beautiful Things” by Gungor, on my Chemo Cocktail Soundtrack that I run to

#135 iMapMyRun iPhone App

#136 Running downhills

#137 weeping willow trees

#138 morning doves

#139 sunshine

#140 wind in my hair

#141 H-2-OH

#142 the Elvis statue in some neighbor’s garden

#143 Thinking about friends as I pass their houses

#144 My “run.” necklace

#145 Sweating out chemo toxins

#146 Moving forward

#147 Shade trees

#148 best running socks ever

#149 fireflies when I run when the sun is setting

#150 sometimes closing my eyes and raising my hands in the air like I’m flying

#151 trying to find a running groove

#152 finishing a run

#153 making ice cold watermelon juice right after

#154 followed by a cold shower

#155 I thought I could and I just did it

#156 gaining confidence

#157 building fitness

#158 sipping satisfaction

#159 experiencing enjoyment

#160 Eric Liddell said when he ran he felt God’s pleasure. This is what I’m after. Not just in running but in everything I do. And I especially feel God’s pleasure when I write.

#161 that I get to have fun playing with words