Nine Months To Go! Hooray! Well, technically, I have “only” Nine Months (minus a day) To Go with my chemotherapy course. The nine month mark was yesterday, August 12, 2010. And yes, it’s capitalized. It’s a holiday meant for celebrating and taking time off from work, like Arbor Day or Flag Day.

I celebrated with Loren by seeing Guster at the Fox Theatre in Boulder last night, ten years after we saw them there last with Jason. It may very well have been their first time back at the Fox since we last saw them there. And the date was just a happy coincidence–I gave Loren the tickets for his birthday. Well, his ticket anyway.

It was a great show, and the first stop on Guster’s new tour promoting their upcoming album Easy Wonderful (which, now having heard music from, I am even more psyched to hear). It turned out that the night was actually a radio showcase, in which three bands played, and somewhere among the crowd were radio station executives deciding if they wanted to play any of the music they heard on stage on their radio stations. But, as all three bands noted, it just felt like a night of really, really good music.

In addition to seeing Guster, we were introduced to two indie bands; first, Delta Spirit, one of Ryan Miller (of Guster)’s favorite bands, as evidenced by him standing right next to Loren and I and saying “this is one of my favorite bands.” Next, we saw Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, an ensemble band with ten performers, including a trumpeter, an upright pianist, and a requirement that once you join their band you must be baked for every waking (and probably sleeping) moment of your life. Both bands were good, but Edward Sharpe stood out as a rare band whose album I knew I needed after they had been onstage for just a few moments. They had a lot going on, and their first song could not have possibly been more appropriate than the one the played: The Beatles “Magical Mystery Tour.”

Anyway, Nine Months (minus a day) Left To Go is juuust super.

–Reid.

As of Tuesday afternoon, Wes and Emily are officially engaged!

I won’t take all the credit for making them fall in love, but I’ll take some of it.

–Reid.

I’ve got a new gig writing for humor website Smosh.com. Smosh.com is the homepage of a comedy duo called, as you may imagine, “Smosh.” There are more than 400,000 registered members on the site, which rakes in over five million hits each month. Smosh’s YouTube channel is the fourth most subscribed to channel of all time. For some perspective, Smosh’s channel has 1,624,405 subscribers while Better Than The Machine’s channel has a *ahem* respectable 2,866 subscribers. So the number of BTTM subscribers isn’t even close to seven digits yet, big deal! Millions of fans… who wants to have to respond to all that fan mail, anyway? Not… not BTTM… that’s for sure. Yeah…

In addition to a pretty steady stream of smosh from the famous-on-the-Internet duo, Smosh.com has a handful of comedy writers who also contribute articles to the site. I am now one of those way less famous-on-the-Internet writers. The material we write adds more funny content to just the site; it’s not written for, or directly linked to the two guys in Smosh or their videos. The pieces we write, though, are intended for the same audience, so we write in a voice that appeals to that audience. That voice is different from my personal comic sensibilities and, in many cases, is totally outside my sense of humor altogether. Which isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s quite a good exercise in adapting to someone else’s voice, which is a big part of being a professional staff writer.

I got this job entirely thanks to my very thoughtful friend C.J. Arabia. C.J. is the former editor of NBC’s DotComedy who gave Dave Burdick and me the opportunity and the support to produce The Guys in 3A.

I wrote this article (and Photoshopped the images) a few days ago. I feel like it’s approaching a good balance between my sense of humor and the senses of humor of the Smosh.com audience. It’s pretty silly.

What’s perhaps sillier than the article itself is that a lot of people seem confused as to whether this story, with the silly pictures and everything, is real. So let me just clear this up: the news about some lady winning the lotto for the fourth time is true. But the rest? Not true… to the best of my knowledge.

–Reid.

As of Saturday, June 12, I have eleven months to go in my chemotherapy regimen. Performing in New York City at The PIT with Better Than The Machine again, with lots of great friends in the audience who then came to celebrate afterwords, was a great way to mark this day!

Thank you all.

–Reid.

I just woke up, and I was laughing. I had to lie awake and laugh some more. I was having a dream that was overwhelmingly happy, for the first time since… as long as I can remember, since all this started. I’ve been having nightmares that wake me every day for months and months and more than months, years, since I’ve been home from the hospital? Since I went on sleep meds… and off them. You were there, and you, and you… all my best friends. It was great, and I woke up laughing….

–Reid.

—————-
Now playing: The Mamas & The Papas – California Dreamin’
via FoxyTunes

To my Dear Friend,

I am writing to inform you that I have returned home.

The cruise was delightful. We sailed around the Western Caribbean, to locations both familiar and new. We awoke late in the morning, adventured through the afternoon, and filled our bellies each night with fine cuisine and drink from all over the world. I took much personal pleasure in exploring the second largest barrier reef in the entirety of the world: I swam below the water through many schools of exotic fish and around many ancient volcanic formations. Remarkably, much to my own surprise and glee, I did not fatigue from this extended physical exertion. We stayed in the final port of call for a relaxing wind down in which we were met by several familiar and friendly faces. Thus ended, the journey proved to be quite the successful celebration for our small band, just as intended.

Forgive my ostentatiousness; I do not mean to brag, merely to relate.

How have you been? On my voyage, I met someone that greatly reminded me of you. I dwelt upon this, and deemed it to be an existential sign that I must contact you with utmost haste upon my return. I find, much to my dismay, communication between us has become quite the exception, rather than the expectation it once was. You would have thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience, My Friend, and more than once, I found myself wishing you were by my side. I suppose there is always a next time. I hope you and yours are doing well.

Yours, forever in friendship and folly,

Reid

—————-
Now playing: Soundgarden – Black Hole Sun
via FoxyTunes

How can it be that seeing some of my best friends in the whole wide world–friends that I rarely get to see in person these days–can both make me feel worlds better, and at the same time, fill me with such a great sense of loss?

I have come to the simple conclusion that the world has gone on without me these past few years, and that no matter how I may feel about this, it will probably continue to do so.

Stupid world,

–Reid.

Check out my beautiful new scarf, knit specially for me by my friend CJ Arabia.

I got to know CJ when Dave and I were making The Guys in 3A for NBC’s DotComedy. I always called her our producer, although I’m not sure what her official title was. She was the one who told us what we could and couldn’t do (there wasn’t much we couldn’t do) and she hounded the people with money to get us paid and she was the one who had to tell us that DotComedy was being decommissioned, and therefore, so were we. That all sounds like producery stuff to me. She would also call and check in and was very helpful and friendly.

Fast forward to the first few days of 2010.

CJ knit this scarf during my most recent hospital stay–or probably faster, because the scarf got to my house a day after I did. Those are some mad Flash-like knitting skills. She had asked what color scarf I wanted, and when I said blue, I could not have imagined what a pretty blue it was going to be. The wool was dyed by a family in Uruguay (I think they dyed this wool by choice, unlike some countries where people have to dye wool just for a crust of bread), and I have to say they did a top notch job, those Uruguayans; muy bien, la familia Uruguaya! The scarf is very soft and not itchy and it’s so snugly.

I love this scarf, but not just for aesthetic reasons. It is a great symbol of always having my friends around me, and I will proudly continue to wear it while it’s cold outside, and then when it’s warm, I will hang it on the wall for everyone to see.

Check out CJ’s official knitting blog Where My Knittas At.

Thanks again, CJ.

–Reid.

I am home from the hospital, but still quite tired and weak.

I must again thank all my friends, whether you’re friends from my physical world or my virtual one, for your outpouring of support. I have been overwhelmed with your kindness and your naming of bar trivia teams after me.

Since my release from the hospital, I’ve actually seen more doctors than I saw in the hospital. There’re all sorts of things wrong with me–all of which, I am assured, will be fixable in some way. It may take quite a lot of time and pain, but it will all be fixed. I’m blaming cancer for all of this. That’s right, I’m calling you out, my Leukemia.

My doctors are still waiting for something to grow in some conclusive manner on one of the many Petrie dishes on which they spread my lung goo. Meanwhile, I still have that unidentified goo in my lungs. I’m getting a lot of much-needed sleep, which is still being interrupted by some really impressive coughing fits. I have not coughed up anymore blood, though, which is a good thing.

We had a great Better Than The Machine meeting this evening that I was able to attend via videoconferencing. We haven’t had a regular meeting in what feels like a long, long time. Everyone was there and we got some stuff sorted out that’s needed sorting out for quite some time. New producer? The newly re-carred Carlos. This is the dawning of The Age of Cabrera! It was a lot of fun getting to brainstorm as a group again and even approaching that level where our creative energy moves seamlessly between us; we’re a little rusty, but we’ll be back in top form in no time. I think we were all missing it, and everyone seemed to be genuinely excited that we’re going to be meeting to write and brainstorm regularly again. It was great just laughing with those guys. It always is (even when it makes me cough up a lung).

Finally, I would be remiss if I did not draw your attention to Matt Gallo’s memoirs, which have just been published. Tonight, he gave Better Than The Machine a world exclusive preview, indicating that his memoirs “might include punctuation.” No, that’s not right. I am lying. Matt wouldn’t give us any preview, so I made that up. He is a shrewd business man, that Matt Gallo. “No freebies,” that’s his motto… that I also just made up. You can–nay, must!–buy the book that includes Matt’s memoirs on Amazon.com right now (note: this is a real link to buy this real book on the real Amazon.com, not something I made up, nor another absolutely stunningly clever link to an image). Congrats on being published, Matt!

I think that’s everything I’m willing to say under oath right now.

–Reid.
Not necessarily as clever as advertised. Hospital playset sold separately.

I met a new friend today who asked me when I was diagnosed with Leukemia. I replied that, wouldn’t you know it, but today just happened to be the second year anniversary of my diagnosis. This new friend replied that perhaps “anniversary” seemed like an inappropriate word to mark today since the word often has a positive connotation.

I kind of laughed and explained that there is a positive connotation: I’m still alive. If I’d been diagnosed a few weeks, or perhaps even a few days later, I would not be writing this message. I would be dead. I can’t imagine not marking today’s importance, and giving thanks for all the people who helped keep me alive; in big ways and in small, in physical ways and in spirit, in friendship and in love. I must thank them all for helping me take one more step towards the finish line.

I have two years behind me now, and a year and a half to go. I wish I could impart some special wisdom from my experiences upon everyone, some passionate speech about living your life to its fullest. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a great bit of advice. I didn’t come up with it, though. I think, if I could impart any of the wisdom I’ve gained after two years battling Leukemia upon myself from two years ago, it would be that, “as time passes, everything becomes more tolerable, and yet, be careful because everything becomes more frustrating.” It’s almost like growing up: the older you get, the more you can do, but the more you also realize there are many things you cannot do.

Ultimately, though, there’s just two things I need to say: thank you all for giving me the ultimate gift: my life. I love you all.

–Reid.