Better Than The Machine just released a video we made for HP last year that didn’t end up getting used. I star in it, although you might not recognize me (I play Carlos in this sketch). Check it out:

For more info, click here.

–Reid.

P.S. There’s one scene in which someone else is in the bear suit. Can you figure out which scene it is?

P.P.S. For the answer, hold your computer up to a mirror and read this secret message!: !tiwtin uoY

got chemo (methotrexate and vinnecristine) yesterday. slept from yesterday afternoon until work time (2 pm) today with the exception of watching the new office last night. feeling wiped out, and like there’s a desert inside me, but otherwise pretty okay. drinking juice, soda, and water nonstop to aquaform the desert inside–but can’t seem to get enough to drink. excited to go back to sleep after work.

10-day chemo cycle is great. much better than normal 7-day schedule. have time to recover and feel better before the next treatment.

not too excited that my bank failed today. i’m no economist, but it looks like we’d better learn to like bread crusts and soup kitchens. or at least start raising chickens in our apartments.

excited for the debate party we’re having tonight. i’ve never seen a one man debate, but i imagine it will be pure excitement.

–reid.

Monday’s chemo may have tired me out for the past few days, but the fears of it getting stuck in the fluid pockets in my belly and becoming toxic seem to have been all-for-naught (for now). A look at my blood today revealed absolutely no traces of the drug.

I’m free and clear until next week when the dosage will be increased exponentially. Yee-haw, exponents!

–Reid.

Gmail alerted me that I had a new piece of spam email from a fellow calling himself simply “Boyd”. The email was titled “Turn Your Handgun Into A Bazooka”. For a moment, I wondered how this was technologically possible.

Then I got what they were trying to sell me. Oh-ho, that crazy NRA.

–Reid.

Very good guys! I really like how you put everyone in it. Everything was great… I think Paul even appears to have figured out how to do some effects I don’t know how to do. That’s really awesome. I only have one tiny thing: I wish you would’ve beat up that guy in Christina’s segment.

Oh, hey… wait… if this is the last one, does that mean no Reid Levin Story? Well fine, I’ll just take an axe to all the sets I built in my garage. And burn down my studio.

Jerks.

–Reid.

Today was one of those days when I couldn’t help but walk tall and grin. People told me I looked good and looked like I was feeling well. In fact, I was feeling great. I was in a great mood, even though the possibility of chemo loomed.

While I was waiting to find out if I had passed my blood counts, I filled out a survey sent to me by New York Presbyterian Hospital at Columbia Medical. I’ve had the survey since it was sent to me on December 10, 2007 and have been waiting for just the right time to fill it out. Taking advantage of today’s particularly good mood, I figured it was finally time to let ‘em know what I thought loud and clear. They wouldn’t know what hit ‘em. I was out for revenge with a dull number 2 pencil.

I had visited the Emergency Department at Columbia just before I flew home and was diagnosed with Leukemia. I spent all day there just to be told to take some Ibuprofen; needless to say, they didn’t catch my cancer. So I had a lot of fun finally filling out the survey. My favorite line: “Not only will I not recommend your hospital to others, but I have actively warned people to avoid it at all costs“.

Heh, heh. I hope they call.

I finally passed counts today. Even though it meant I had to get a dose of that damn Vincristine and a dose of Methotrexate in my noggin, I was ready to get a move on so that I can get on with my life. Everything went smoothly and we were in and out of there pretty fast thanks to my infusion nurse Lauren, who made everyone get a move on. Hopefully I won’t need the antidote; we’ll find out for sure in two days.

In other cancer news, I found out that one of my best friend’s father was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer. They’ve been very supportive of me, and over the years have always been some of the kindest, most wonderful people I’ve known. From what I understand from my friend, both his father’s prognosis and outlook are very good. To my friend’s father: I wish you the absolute best of luck. I’ll be thinking about you and your family. You can count my family as a very small part of a very large group of people that love you.

Finally, so as to end on a high note, a story that is not about cancer: last week, I was invited to a poker tournament with many of my dad’s friends and acquaintances. I cleaned ‘em out and won the tournament.

Hey, I didn’t say it was a long story. But I liked it.

–Reid.

I didn’t pass counts again, and am nearing a solid month off chemo. Some quick feelings:

1) Cool! More time off chemo to feel good!

2) NYC in the summer is an awful place to be. I’d really like to get back to the city before it becomes possible to cook a pizza just by going down into the subway tunnels*.

Anyway, we’re trying again on Monday.

–Reid.

*Little known fact: this is how pizza was invented**.

But that’s a story for another day.

Yeah, so these are the friends I so desperately want to get back to:

My mom: Wow, I thought Carlos would be a shoe-in at a gay bar.

Thanks for the gay pick-me-up, guys! I’m going to brag about winning this gay contest to everyone I know.

–Reid.

I went into the hospital this morning with butterflies in my stomach, and a lump in my throat. I had the past two weeks off of chemo, and was thus feeling great; it was hard to go to the hospital knowing I’d leave feeling like crap.

Turns out I didn’t have to worry about it. I didn’t pass counts.

I look at this in two ways. One: this is the kind of thing that’s been making me feel like I’m never going to get back to my life in NYC. With all the setbacks, it’s sometimes hard to see the progress being made. Two: I get another week off chemo; so hell… I might as well enjoy it.

–Reid.

I’m becoming more and more dismayed with this year’s presidential politics. Every post I read, every pol radio show I hear, every pol television show I watch, I think to myself, “I don’t know how much lower they can get”. Unfortunately, it’s not just the other side I’ve thought this about. I love Obama himself, and truly believe he can bring about great change for this country. I’m realizing more and more, though, that just because other people want to elect the same candidate I do, it doesn’t mean we share the same morals.

All that said, I find myself completely unable to stay away from the rumors, the arguments, or the hubris. All the coverage and debate is like a car accident involving a whitefin hammerhead shark (s. sphyrna couardi) driving an experimental nuclear hot air balloon: I just can’t look away… or understand how the hell it happened. You know what I’m talking about.

Finally, is anyone else as rabidly excited as my mom to watch Sarah Palin tonight at the RNC? I doubt it. I’m afraid the straight jacket and padded cell I have ready might not be enough to contain her fury.

–Reid.