Disclaimer: I started this blog awhile ago. I'm not even really sure of the date on which it began it's short and not-so fruitful existence. And then I got distracted by life, a shiny object - something - and I forgot all about it.... So this blog will sorta be like Pulp Fiction - in no discernible order, lewd at times and chock-full of large black men and ball-gag harnesses (only kidding!). And minus that annoying Bruce Willis girl with the high pitched voice who brushes her teeth all the time. She annoys me. A lot. Anyway, consider yourself warned:

I love Halloween. It's such a fun holiday. You know, if you can look past all the evil doers, pumpkin throwers and the sluts dressed like devils and nurses and such (I mean, slutty Sponge Bob? Seriously?). And you know those mean, children-hater types who put razor blades into candy bars and then try to give them out to unsuspecting trick or treaters. I'm such a fat ass food addict, that I think if I got a snickers bar with a razor blade in it, I would just nibble around the razor blade. I mean, it's not the creamy nougat's fault some lunatic stuffed it with a deadly weapon. It shouldn't be punished. Plus, how much damage could eating a razor blade covered in creamy and delicious white chocolate really do? A torn windpipe? Punctured colon? I mean - whatever. Modern medicine can heal all that. We cloned a sheep for crying out loud!

On a related note, if I lived closer to Hershey, PA - I would go on the chocolate tour a few times a week just for the free candy bar at the end. It's only a fun sized, milk chocolate bar, but it's FREE. FREE CHOCOLATE. That's practically unheard of. My two favorite words combined into one sentence. (If only it had penis in it, then it would include all three...) It doesn't even make sense... it's UN-American! Well, unless you consider the addicting power of chocolate, combined with the dopamine released in your brain as you're stuffing your face while simultaneously walking into a gift shop filled to the brim with - you guessed it - more delicious goodies on which money can be well spent. And then the candy precedes the cavities and the weight gain, precedes the open heart surgery/gastric bypass/cholesterol medication and VOILA! Someone is making bank at the expense of my health and greater well-being. It doesn't get more American than that, folks. That should be America's slogan:

"America. Land of freedom, equal opportunities and the chance to get ripped off at the expense of your own greater good". Catchy no? It's a bit long. Maybe it needs to be shortened up some.

"America. Home of the free* (*only $4.99 shipping & handling, plus applicable taxes. Does not include gratuities, restocking fee or the service charge of 1100.99 billion)"

Yeah, - we're not gonna see THAT embroidered on a pillow at the airport giftshop. Oooo, ooo, I got it:

"America. Get Fat. Hand over your cash"

OK. I'm done. seriously. It's late and I'm running out of witty comments. I'm also starting to sound very anti-America, which I am not. For the record. I just sometimes get discouraged at the shitty economy/social justice system/school system/health system... well, you know - you get what I'm sayin.

Tomorrow I have volunteer training at a really awesome place called The Shepherd's Clinic in Baltimore. A great place that does great things for others. Everyone should get out there and volunteer. I'm serious. It's bullshit when you say you don't have the time to do it... you do. Don't lie, Chester - Santa is watching! You do so have the time. Ya-huh! You just choose to do other things with your spare moments, like lay on the couch naked eating peanut butter right from the jar while watching the View on your DVR. You could so be helping someone! But seriously... I decided that life is too short to not give back. So I'm giving. Back. Maybe it will reverse some of my bad karma and send some good luck my way. I could use a little of that these days. Good luck. Good karma. Copious amounts of money. Intimate moments shared with someone who isn't me. Sorry. Went to far. I tend to do that.

So, the timing is off on this thing because Halloween is long gone and I've already volunteered a few times at the Shepherd's Clinic. Just tonight in fact. Super great place. Seriously. Everyone there is so nice and polite and helpful. Little do they know I just volunteer there so I can get discounted yoga classes and time away from my children. Ha! Turns out I am a shmuck!! Jokes on me! I found out today that discounted pharmacy programs cover the cost of Viagra but not the cost of birth control. Does this seem fair to you? Or at the very least - counterproductive? If you're going to encourage erections, you should encourage the non-formation of small unplanned people. Common sense people! Go get some!!

Where was I? Yes, distraction. See how easy it is for me.

So I have Multiple Sclerosis.

There it is. I wrote it down for all to see. Some of you probably already know because you're inquisitive like that (or you stalk me on a regular basis on facebook, or you're my neurologist - Hi, Dr. Bajaj!) I was diagnosed a few weeks ago. Everyone has a different opinion on it when I tell them, but mostly I get the sad look and the nod. Or a story about someone with MS that is a friend of a friend of a sister's roommate and they are (pick one) doing well/not too bad/barely sick, etc. Then, of course, there's my mother - who (sorry for the metaphor Urban Jess-Blog Fans) threw it out like an old black lady at a young person's funeral. I'm talking the "Lordy, Lordy's!" and the falling out and everything. While I sat there wondering if she'd heard me right.

"You do know I said MS, right? Not Brain Tumor. Not Cancer."

"Besides, think of all the pain meds I can get for you!"

Ok, I didn't say that last part. I wanted to though. I wanted to say "this isn't about you, ya know. It's about me." But I didn't have the energy.

So, aside from being dizzy most of the time (and the 11 white spots on my MRI) - oh, and the demolition of my dreams of being an trapeze acrobat in the circus - I feel exactly as I did pre-diagnosis. I mean, I'm a little sad. Sure. Of course I am. But stressing about it and throwing fits about how unfair it is won't make it go away. It certainly won't make me feel better. Plus, I can now use this as an excuse for everything I could possibly think of:

"Sorry Mom. I can't make it to Christmas dinner at Uncle Pete's. MS is acting up again"

"You should definitely pay for lunch, friend. I've got a $200 deductible on drugs. Stupid MS"

"Yes, I'm 100% sure that's how you straight cath someone! I have MS *and* I'm a nurse. Of course I know. Now take off your pants"

Poor taste? Yes. But funny nonetheless. And that's all that matters in the end. How funny you think I am. And also, how much money you will send me in the mail. Those two things are what matter most.

Well, I feel like we haven't talked in ages, blog friend. I could reminisce forever with you - here in this dimly lit bedroom under the blankets with my laptop resting on my naked stomach. But alas, I should go to sleep. And I promised a blog and I need to finish this one before I start to drool on my keyboard. Goodnight my love! Whatever you do - don't feed it past midnight.

- Oh, on another sidenote: I had my 15 year high school reunion and I promised I would write a blog about that. But I didn't write about that in here. So apparently, I'm really good at breaking promises. But I promise my next blog will be chock-full of reunion-esque stories and some photos of me from the 90's when I was a dirtball with zero fashion sense. Ta Ta!