One of my new mottos is “Why the eff not me?”  I think my life shall forevermore be divided by cancer: pre-cancer and post-cancer.  Pre-cancer, I let myself believe that extraordinary things happen to other people; I am but a simple girl.  Post-cancer, the playing field somehow seems more even, and I feel like a Christmas tree that has just been lit up.  (My branches may be a little sparse and my star is slightly crooked, but I am shining.)

I’m not just telling you this to toot my own horn (because that would suck — and I really feel pretty awkward about that part).  I am telling you this because I am thinking bigger than I ever have, and even though I have asked for your help before, and it didn’t pan out, I need your help again.  I saw how you guys blew Hanson up for me.  Could you blow this up for me too?

You can either search for "Invasive Duct Tales" or find me in the top ten.
You can either search for “Invasive Duct Tales” or find me in the top ten.

It may seem silly to you and not that big for that matter — competing with IBS and menopause blogs — but two things.  It would make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because who doesn’t love to win things?  And there’s a $1000 cash prize, and who doesn’t love a little extra money?

As it stands, the leader is only 405 votes ahead of me.  I know that I can close that gap and keep a steady hold.  Voting is EVERY DAY until January 15th.  I know that’s a lot to ask, and I feel like that needy friend that keeps coming to the party empty handed, but if you could so kindly add it to your daily routine, I would be so grateful.

You know — wake up, make some coffee, feed the goldfish, vote for Heather’s blog, brush your teeth, twerk to the shower, blow dry your hair…  It’s that easy.  But, like, *everyday*.  You can set an alarm.  Or I can text you a #selfie everyday to remind you.  But I have no selfie game.  You probably don’t want that.  My 12 year old cousin recently informed me that there are definite selfie rules.  Things like how pretty you are determines how much of your face can be in the picture.  And she said something about your eyebrows being “on point.”  I don’t think mine are “on point” right now.  I might need help with that too.

As an incentive to you, my dear readers (uhh, friends and family), I will even let you decide how I spend that grand if I win it.

  1. A romantic getaway, just Josh and me.
  2. Putting a slight dent in my mountain of medical bills.  (Cancer is expensive, yo.)
  3. Babysitters and possibly a cleaning lady so I can have time to write a book.
  4. Ecstasy and glow sticks.

So there you have it.  You can choose between being responsible, wanting to read some more things that I probably shouldn’t say, and voting for Josh and me to get it on.  Also, please don’t vote for the drugs.  You have no idea how many times I’ve had to say no to drugs since I’ve gotten cancer.

I’m going to be pretty annoying about this, you guys, because seriously, why the eff not me?