Me & Me
Posted June 11, 2010on:
I’ve been meaning to speak to you about me, or more precisely, about & Me.
Particularly if you found this blog by accident, you might wonder about this & Me person. Surely, anyone who writes a blog in which every post headline ends in & Me must be a raving maniac and/or the most self-centered person on the planet, give or take a few.
Is it my ego that forces everything to be & me? Or is it just a clever means of writing headlines? Or, perhaps more accurately, are they not-so-clever headlines?
This whole & Me thing began innocently enough with my first writing about my diagnosis of breast cancer, when I wrote about Tevye & Me. The concept was that I wrote about the higher risk of Jewish women of Ashkenazi descent (eastern and central Europe) have a great risk of breast cancer. Tevye, the father figure in Fiddler on the Roof, speaks to God about the
And I didn’t know that. Tevye and Me was just the start. There was Clint Eastwood & Me, which described my “are you feeling lucky” fears going into surgery. And then there was Madonna & Me, which described my decision to have a double mastectomy for my emotional wellbeing.
It’s gone on from there. I’ve brought everything except the kitchen sink to & Me, including many more cultural icons.
I’m paraphrasing the early blog post headlines, but the concept was all this crazy stuff in my head. Sometimes, I have gone on a rant; other times I use & Me ironically.
Anything and everything becomes fodder for my blog posts. When things happen, such as the environmental products piece that I posted June 10. I am very willing to poke fun at myself, which frankly, is very poke-funnable. That’s why I can get away with & Me, who can be pretty absurd in her – my – buffoonery.
This blog, whether it’s read daily by 500 or 12, has been the best thing I’ve done for myself during treatment and beyond. It’s kept my brain sharp (or less unsharp) than it might have been during chemotherapy, etc.
And it’s been fun, particularly when folks mention it via email and in person. Dick and I were out walking the other day and an old friend passing in her car yelled to me that she read it every day. Thanks, Linda.
I used to say that I write when I find work, which I do, and would like even more. But I also write tis blog for my own personal sanity. I think it’s good that increasingly I’m writing about sometime other than cancer. It means there is life after cancer.
Sometimes, though, I need to be protected from what I might write. Thank you, Maggie and Dick, for stopping me from posting one piece written at 2 a.m. this week when I couldn’t sleep. It would have been greatly misunderstood.
The rule now is that if I write something in the middle of night, I need to run it by my panel working to protect me from myself (& me).