I’m a cancer survivor. Did I ever tell you that? Well, now you know. And as GI Joe so wisely taught us...knowing is half the battle.

By way of background, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer approximately one month before my 23^rd birthday. A 3cm malignant tumor was subsequently removed along with my entire thyroid gland. 6 weeks later, I was admitted to Washington Hospital Center’s nuclear medicine department for intensive radiation therapy for 10 days (I was no shit radio active – in complete isolation and was a severe danger to pregnant women and could have killed small dogs). There is no family history and no one knows why this happened. Fun times.

The up side – thyroid cancer is extremely slow growing and very treatable. The down side - unlike most cancers that officially go into remission after 5 years, thyroid cancer can come back at any time – 20 years, 30…it doesn’t matter. Therefore, diligence is key and annual full body scans are prescribed.

Due to changing Dr.’s a number of times, insurance changes, my busy schedule…basically any excuse I could possibly think of …I haven’t had a scan since….2005.

I’m overdue. Well overdue.

Due to the relentless nagging of my parents….I made a call this afternoon to my Endocrinologist requesting she fit me in for a scan sometime soon.

I’m scared. So scared. Scared of going through the treatment, the tests, the side affects again. Cancer took a two year chunk out of my twenties – I didn’t look or feel right for two years. I don’t know whether I’m strong enough to go through that again – and so I’ve put it off. Stupid. I know. I KNOW its stupid, but that doesn’t make me any more eager to know whether or not there are cancer cells still swimming around inside of me.

I don’t look sick. I don’t feel sick and I’m not about to have my life disrupted again. That’s a great first date conversation starter – “so, I’d really love to see you again but if you put your dick inside me while I’m radioactive, it will probably fall off.”

I totally forgot how much guys dig a girl in a hospital bed.

Don’t worry – I’ll go, I’m sure everything will be fine, I’m worrying about nothing, blah blah blah. But that’s exactly what everyone said when my Dr. felt a lump in my neck…and when they did the biopsy…

I’m just so unenthusiastic about hearing the results – good or bad.

Frankly, just being in the hospital again makes me feel…damaged.

Tuesday was tres fabulous, fyi.

There’s nothing like being a redheaded irish girl on St. Patty’s Day – by the end of the day, I felt like a damn celebrity. Of course it could have been the euphoric effects of the green jell-o shooters, whiskey shots and tons of beer….but I like to think it was because I was receiving an incredible amount of male attention and beaucoup des free drinks. It was a healthy dose of some much needed ego boosting.

Crazy Bitch also got a hearty helping of adoration – go girl!

Canadian is coming to town tomorrow – did I mention that?  For a work conference. For nine days. So it looks as though my rather arid physical streak could be at an end.

In other news I exchanged drunken txt messages with Tex – which was promising. My potential FWB (aka Rugby) guy is getting dangerously close to being kicked to the curb and I have a date with a NEW GUY on Friday. Also managed to score the oh so elusive second date with the PRIEST. Ok – he’s not a priest – he’s a preacher – a cleric – a man of god (but priest sounds better).

Get this ok, we all remember Army? Yes? No? Anyways, ok so for the sake of illustration lets just say that Army’s name is “Joe”. He’s a major in the army. He’s in Afghanistan. The Priest’s name is also “Joe”. He’s a major in the army. He’s going to Afghanistan in 2 months. OY!

Well, with any luck he can bring me…closer to God before he leaves.

Hell. Straight to. In a Prada purse. Ya – that’s where I’m headed.

(disclosure: this post was written after  consuming a bottle of ‘Royal Bitch’ Merlot)

6 months.

6 months.

6 MONTHS – people. Since I’ve had sex. I thought I’d just throw that out there as the frustration has reached new heights. I haven’t gone six months without sex since 1998 – and at that time….I was a virgin!!!!

Sure it was all fun and games after 3 months and I was all caught up in holiday craziness. Thinking about the Virgin Mary and the birth of the baby Jesus were the only things keeping my mind off the lack of sex. Then the whirlwind of January, my London via Texas three week excursion also definitely a diversion.

Then February – definitely diversions in Feburary – nothing too distracting though leaving more time to think about what I wasn’t getting.

Now March. I have begun my dating fiesta. I’m currently ‘dating’ (as in gone past a first date) several adorable men. Tex – unfortunately, apparently the fact that I wore down his battery didn’t sit too well. However, we have Rugby, the Pastor (whole new story), LAX and Boss Man (we had drinks. He was all eager to do it again – who knows if he’s feeling the ‘Scarlett Spark’ yet, but I’m hopeful. This one is a marathon, people – not a sprint).

At any rate, I’ve had a fair number of ‘first kisses’, good first kisses (because, well, the others just get kicked to the curb), and so reminding me what I’m missing. Reminding me how intoxicating a good kiss can be. Making me long for more drawn out kissing sessions…which lead to other sessions. Making me remember how much I’ve missed being physically close to someone.

I’m not talking about one night stands – the flame burning within me right now is far hotter than even the best anonymous encounter could produce.

So to recap – I’m frustrated. Oh – and on Top on that – I’ve totally given up sugar for lent. Which means…no chocolate!!! My last hope for any semblance of solace.

Oh well – on a lighter note – Happy St. Patty’s day!! For those of you Non, Micks - please see one of my all time favorite posts for a guide on surviving the day.

This redheaded Irish Girl will be giving homage at the Dubliner starting at noon. See you there!!

Frankly,  

The announcement that the brand new 23 mile long ‘silver line’ that metro will construct for the bargain price of $1.63 billion has made DC all a twitter. Personally, it leaves me less than thrilled.

While the inception of the Silver Line carries with it the ability to schlep my pedestrian ass out to Tysons Corner – a luxury once reserved for the vehicle owning and/or ride-mooching residents of DC – thus multiplying potential opportunities to ‘stimulate’ the economy exponentially, this is hardly the most efficient use of funds designed to ‘enhance’ the lives of DC residents.

Does anyone else feel deprived on a daily basis that by the fact that they are currently unable to get to Dulles by means other than the super shuttle, taxi, or bus??? Trust me, there are many things that keep me up at night. Greater accessibility to Dulles is NOT one of them.

Even if Dulles were located in Silver Spring, I would prefer DCA. It’s closer to DC, lines are shorter, security is more efficient for the frequent flyers among us, terminals within walkable distance of each other and accessed without the use of a little space-like pod from the first terminal to the next. If these weren’t enough reasons to make the average DC Metro rider shake their heads at this mammoth and in my estimation COMPLETELY UNESSARY project, the following are:

 SCARLETT'S TOP TEN WAYS TO BETTER SPEND $1.63 BILLION IMPROVING THE LIVES OF DC AREA RESIDENTS:

 #10. Homeless Shelters. Invest the money in more homeless shelters to house/care for/rehabilitate the residents of McPherson Square/Dupont Circle/Franklin Park/ 15^th St so they’ll stop bugging me every time I walk out of my local Starbucks or the Dupont CVS.

#9. Projects in Progress. Finish what you start. Now I’m no I-95 road warrior, but I do venture out on a Zip Car from time to time. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t there several highway construction projects around Alexandria, The Woodrow Wilson Bridge, and various traffic jam issues that should be finished/fixed before creating a brand new mess???

#8. Clean up the Potomac. ‘Nuff Said.

#7. Reduce Tolls/Metro Fare. As I understand it, the poor car drivers that caravan up and down the Dulles toll-road will help in footing this bill through increased tolls. That HARDLY seems fair seeing as how it’s the people with CARS who will NOT be utilizing the Silver Line as they, well….DRIVE places instead of metro. Most car owners love their vehicles – good luck in convincing them that lugging their to-be checked and carried on luggage through the beautiful efficiency that is the DC metro rail system  the better way to go to the airport.

#6. Invest in more busses. Ever morning, without fail, I wait for the bus. 10, 15, twenty minutes in either the freezing cold or dreadfully humid air (take your pic as DC weather is in one way or another abysmal 85% of the year). Take the money, buy some more busses (of which the majority are now eco friendly), pay some more bus drivers and put some more busses on the road because unless you’re riding the 42 line, chances are you’re waiting a while for a bus).

#5. Fix/keep the tracks already in place in working order. Every single weekend, without fail I, and hundreds of DC residents and tourists flocking to the nation’s capital, are inconvenienced by ‘routine track maintenance’ causing 20, 30 or in some cases 40 minute intervals between trains leading to inevitable overcrowding, pushing, shoving, and all around unhappy people. Especially when these people are waiting on outdoor platforms in the freezing winter air.

#4. Replace Outdated Metro Cars. Continue the process of replacing the metro cars that are still sporting orange carpet circa 1973 with the newer, carpetless and more efficient (in terms of passenger capacity) metro cars.

#3. The National Mall. Take the $1.6 Billion and grow some grass, clean monuments, plant flowers – beautify one of the most historic and recognizable symbols of American democracy, legacy and history. Put in a irrigation system in the summer to keep the grass from being singed like a piece of hair on a curling iron in the summer, keep the reflecting pool..well….reflecting instead of a murky mess.

#2. Metro Stops. There has yet to be a convenient metro stop in Georgetown, Adams Morgan, or a more efficient way to go from Cleveland Park to Columbia Heights without traveling via China Town! Ever thought of making actual DC neighborhoods more metro accessible before making Bumble-Fuck Virginia easier to get to!? Hell, my friends can’t even get me to go out in ARLINGTON, let alone travel to Reston!

And the #1 way to better spend $1.63 Billion than a metro line to Dulles Airport....(drum roll please.....)

#1. Law Enforcement. While the DC crime rate has dropped like a stone since its peak in the mid 90s, violent crime was reported to be more than three time the national average of 466.9 reported offenses per 100,000 people in 2007.  Spend the $1.63 billion on more police officers, their salaries and benefits. Not being killed/raped/assaulted is of FAR greater value to me than riding the metro out to Dulles.

Could someone please point out the silver line-ing to this monstrous project? If you disagree, I’d LOVE to hear why.

Frankly,

Soooo date updates. I’ll give you the quick ones first then move on to more detailed craziness that only your Scarlett could produce.

Coffee Date. I haven’t written about Mr. Coffee yet. A friend set us up and we decided to meet on Friday afternoon. He’s very nice, really great smile. I don’t know if I’m all THAT attracted to him, but if he asks me out again, I wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea.

Irish Guy. We all remember the fabulous date/marathon make-out session I had with this guy. He emailed me last Sunday and said:

Sorry I've been a little flaky.  Things have been rather crazy.  I unfortunately had to work today, just me and anal retentive boss which is just tons of fun.  Are you still up for doing something soon?  Things should hopefully calm down for me this weekend.  Do you have any plans?  Let me know what you think.  Hope you had a good weekend.

So after that I said I was free on Saturday and he suggested we touch base closer to the end of the week to decide what to do.

Friday I emailed a friendly, “hi” to see what the plan was for Saturday and heard…NOTHING back. I’m NOT a fan. We’re kicking this one to ethe curb.

And then we have Tex.

So Friday evening, after sharing a drink with PQ, I met him in Gtown and had a lovely dinner at Pizzeria Paridiso. Tres Yummy! We had a great conversation, I had to stop myself from literally staring at length into his piercing blue eyes. He looked like someone…but I couldn’t quite place it.

After dinner, we walked over to Clyde’s and proceeded to talk, drink and flirt until around 3 a.m. when the bar was closing. He offered to give me a ride home and a I certainly didn’t object.

So we pull up in front of chez moi and he kisses me ‘goodnight’. Many, many kisses goodnight. 15 minutes of kisses goodnight – and the cars whizzing by on my busy Dupont street got a little distracting. So I very cleverly suggested, as I didn’t feel comfortable inviting him upstairs, that he pull into my building’s parking lot around back.

Incidentally, my discomfort in inviting him up stemmed from the following three rationale:

#1. My apartment was/is STILL in disarray as the ceiling has not been repaired and all of the displaced furniture/wall decorations have not been replaced. Not exactly the way to make a stellar first impression.

#2. The way this make out session was going, it would be very hard to put the proverbial sex brakes on outside of the confines of the car.

#3. If said sex brakes were to come off, along with my clothes…my undergarment ensemble didn’t exactly match. (I couldn’t find my mega fabulous black bra…and I didn’t feel comfortable getting naked-ish for the first time in anything else).

So….we made out like a couple of teenagers in a car with nowhere to go. That is, of course, until we fell asleep around 4:30 a.m.! We woke up around 5 a.m. when I said, “OK, the sun will be coming up soon…you have GOT to go home and I have GOT to go to bed”. He agreed.

So we resituated and he started the car.

Correction – he TRIED to start the car. Einstein had left the battery on. Yep! Car – completely dead.

As ya’ll know, I don’t drive. So I didn’t have a anything to help him jump his car. The rest of my date went thusly:

5:00 a.m. – We decide its time to call it a night.

5:15 a.m.  - We realize the battery is dead.

5:30 a.m. – Tex calls a tow truck.

5:50 a.m.– Tow truck shows up.

6:00 a.m.– Sun starts coming up.

6:15 a.m.– The tow truck guy tries to jump the car. It’s not working.

6:30 a.m.– Tex asks him if he can tow him to the BMW dealership in Pentagon City. The driver informed us that he gets off at 7:00 a.m. and so he’ll have to call ANOTHER truck to tow him to VA.

7:00 a.m.– The second tow truck comes. He gives me a hug, a kiss and says "we'll talk" and he and his lifeless vehicle get hauled away.

7:15 a.m. - I fall into bed, exhausted. But have lovely dreams.

Oy! So either I’ll never see him again or it’ll be a great story about our first date!!

So THIS week:

Tomorrow…I’m having drinks with…..(drum roll please)….BOSS MAN! Yep – it’s finally happening and so little time to plan! Short skirt or low cut top? Hmmmm.

Wednesday is lunch with Rugby. A new guy, friend set up. We’ve been emailing/txting/talking on a daily basis.

I’ll keep you posted!

Frankly,

Well the ceiling situation hasn’t been completely resolved and I’m still sleeping in the middle of my living room but that’s neither here nor there.

I had a little home beauty budget disaster on Tuesday night. In preparation for spring and the two (count them) TWO dates I have this weekend, I decided to give myself some much needed highlights. Its been over a decade since I purchased one of these little chem. Labs in a box – and I remembered why. What happens when you try to lighten red hair?? It TURNS ORANGE!!!

So I just spend $300 to get the color stripped and then re-deposited into my hair. But the color that was re-deposited…is NOT my color red. It’s DARK. Like black cherry dark! It’s crazy! I have DARK hair. Every 3 minutes I’m debating between thinking ‘I look like a bad ass bitch with dark hair!’ and wanting to use non color friendly shampoo then lather, rinse and repeat like its my job.

We’ll see. I need to seek some outside opinions on the matter.

I look like a bad as bitch with dark hair!!

The Sunday morning sunlight streamed through my up tilted blinds penetrating my eyelids and casting halos of light over the characters in my dreams. I rolled over, trying to ignore the hopeful “mews” of my cats eagerly awaiting their breakfast, my arm landed on the left side of the bed.

Tragically this side is normally reserved for male-type company and thus has been empty and cold for quite some time. This morning however, the description was not merely metaphorical. Cold. It was cold!  And WET!

I sat up in shock to see that the moisture  was much larger than the spot on which I had plopped my outstreatched arm. The entire upper-left corner of my beautiful, queen sized bed was SOAKING wet. I shot up and looked around furiously for the offending feline. I was ready to shish kabob the kitty who I automatically assumed had decided to ‘mark their territory’ next to my head when a heavy, wet drop landed ‘kaploosh’ in the middle of my forehead.

I looked up and there it was – my ceiling. Sagging, drooping and dripping all over my bed!

Quickly jumping out of bed, I pulled off the sheets, pulled on a few items of clothing and proceeded to move my lovely, but heavy bed out of harms way. I then called building management to inform them of the minor rainstorm brewing in my apartment. 

A woman, who sounded less than thrilled to be working on a Sunday, answered the line and after I explained the situation promptly informed me that the absence of of functioning ceiling did not meet their ‘emergency’ criteria, a requirement for dispatching maintenance on a weekend. Apparently, as long as I still had running water and a toilet, I could wait until Monday.

I then pointed out to her that there was a snowstorm heading towards DC and unless they wanted to mop up the damage created after 6 inches of snow accumulation, they might want to think about redefining their 'emergency' standards. 

After being assured that help was, indeed, on its way, I spent the majority of the afternoon standing over my rather soggy mattress with an industrial strength hairdryer trying to stave off mold and general mattress funky-ness.

Help did indeed come. Long story short, they determined the best course of action would be to patch the leak with a piece of cardboard, secure it with duct tape for the time being and hope for the best.

Well kids, I’m not exactly Ms. Holly-Home-Repair, but I DO know that duct tape isn’t waterproof. I was skeptical that this 'quick fix' would really 'fix' anything. My suspicions were confirmed, at about 10:30 p.m. when the patch came crashing down bringing with it, a hefty chunk of my ceiling.

So lets review: my ceiling is leaking; a rather large chunk of it has fallen onto my floor; my mattress has been dried with a hair dryer; my large bed is in the middle of my apartment on the verge of landing in my kitchen; plastic tarps and drop catching buckets now adorn my once fabulous apartment and now maintenance is telling me that they can’t fix the roof until AFTER the snow melts!

This is the problem with Snow in the District – either outside or IN, we just don’t have the infrastructure to handle it!

Frankly,