GALVANIZE ME . . .
 
Mel is sort of recovered ... except for the four spots they found on her lungs this week.  What in the world would make a healthy, energetic, vibrant, kind, intelligent, loyal, effervescent 24-year-old woman come down with cancer and go through successful treatment, only to surface with four suspicious spots on her lungs?
 
I have no answer and I have no power to heal Mel, but I do have the power to run 3.2 miles in the Komen 5k Walk/Run For a Cure.  My team and I will be hitting the pavement once more in September to raise funds for breast cancer (and other cancer) research, treatment and hopefully, eradication. 
 
Support us!!!  We are "New Hope For a Cure."  And we join with tens of thousands of other New Yorkers and bust our butts for ourselves, our daughters, our friends, our mothers and sisters, and for strangers who need the prayers and support of the faceless ones who care about them deeply.
 
***
 
SUCKER . . .
 
I gave in.  I could take the horror no more.  I bought the toothpaste I really wanted.
 
I think I'll try to pawn the nasty Gingermint off on my mother this weekend.  She likes weird combinations like that that I just can't abide.  Gingermint ... it doesn't even exist in nature as one, unified ingredient.  Ginger and mint, I have concluded, do not belong together in anything.  Not in toothpaste, not in baked goods, not in anything.  Shoot me if I ever use my EMPIRE RED KITCHENAID ARTISAN MIXER to create anything containing both ginger and mint.