You guys know that when I love something, I give that thing complete loyalty. How often do I mention Hoagies and Wings as my favorite place to eat in LA? And any day of the week I’d happily go to breakfast at Nat’s and then go visit The Big Kid. And, of course, even though I’m no longer a Vegan, I still push all of my vegan friends to order from Vegan Essentials. All of these places, while they offer great things, have my devotion because they are also run by great people.

I’m very devoted to people. And I am fortunate to be surrounded by people who create wonderful things. From comedians to writers, artists, filmmakers. And, of course, musicians.

Today I am trying to put together the finishing touches on a band bio and album bio for Infantree. I met this band two years ago after their publicist sent me a list of bands she was working with, and they caught my ear. From that first interview with them, I have been a huge fan, and not just of the music they make. These guys turned out to be pretty solidly amazing people, with wisdom, humor, and a mellow kind of cool that sets everyone at ease.

Their new album is coming out soon. I’m listening to it right now. I’ve been having some trouble putting this together, because I feel a bit exhausted and anxious lately, but I have a feeling the words will come soon enough. For now, while you wait, take a listen to the band I’ve become a superultramegafan of.

Check out DeliciousTacos.com

And I didn’t get him anything. I bought some bacon at the store and made him cook it and we ate it and then I threw up and I was a wimpy shit laying on the floor, bloody vomit all over my face, and I made him bring me water. I wrote him some stupid little note, not even a card, and I expected that to be enough. Well, to be fair, it has to be enough, because that’s all he’s getting. Bacon, bloody vomit, and the chance to watch a few minutes of iRobot on my tiny television and crack a few jokes.

But this guy, Tim, my best friend, I just don’t think I can express adequately how important this guy is. I have a recipe box with handwritten recipes of my own. Tim’s recipe for fried chicken is in my box. Tim and I would both laugh and make bone in box jokes right now. One day my son brought back hamburgers and mine had cheese on it and I was near melt down because of a slice of cheese. I was going to cry. But Tim scraped off every bit of melted cheese for me. I have cried in front of Tim the way you only do when you’re sure you’re alone.

And did I mention that he’s brilliant? Well, he’s brilliant. Not only is he quick in conversation, but he happens to be one of the best writers I have ever read. I am waiting patiently for the day he writes his first novel so I can stand next to him and watch the masses of women throwing their literature loving panties at the guy. I believe in him so much, and his talent astounds me.

So, it’s not like this is the world’s best birthday present. It’s actually sort of lame. But, why don’t you go take a read: This post is one of my favorites. And I’m not even going to say “Help me wish my friend a happy birthday by reading his blog.” Instead, do yourself a favor and start reading. He’s really damn good.

I love you, Tim. Soon enough our Echo Park X-box playing will be a reality.

I recently posted a photo to Facebook of an Aveda toning spray that was really soothing to spray on my bald head. Shortly after I posted the photo, I got a comment from Lori Dorn, a writer who has been going through cancer treatment for some time now, telling me that putting aloe onto my scalp feels good and helps the hair grow back more quickly.

At the same time, I got a message from a friend whose mother is about to start chemotherapy treatments thanking me for the tip. So, I figure, if I need to go through this, and countless other people will be going through this, why not start keeping track of some of the things that are helping me not feel so fucking terrible while I go through treatment?

Every once in a while, I’ll post one of these. And if you have any tips, please comment, or email me at NikolHasler at Gmail so I can try this stuff myself.

This week:

The problem? My head burns.

The skin feels nasty to the touch, like the skin of an elderly rhino, and it’s cold, but somehow it manages to burn at the same time.

The solution:

Spraying this stuff all over it:

The ingredients include rose water and peppermint, making it smell all sorts of pleasant and soft, too. I remember that I got this as a part of a full face care package while I was pregnant with Pelham, which does makes me wonder if I should get the cleanser and lotion as well.

The problem? My skin is itchy!

I guess it’s the radiation, which causes skin changes, especially in the areas being radiated. But some nights I finally get warm and calm enough to sleep, and then my skin starts to feel like I’m sleeping at Bed, Bug, and Beyond. (Thanks, Dan, that joke always makes me smile.)

The solution:

Okay, this one is going to need a whole lot of solutions. I’ve been trying everything. But, at least when I am in the bathtub, this stuff works really well:

Neutrogena

And it doesn’t smell strong or like someone’s grandmother’s bathroom. It’s clean and fresh smelling. And so soft and smooth. I have been using a soft sponge I got at CVS to apply it and scrub. Gentle and nice, and providing a few minutes of relief.

The problem? I’m super hungry, and super barfy.

So, the chemo makes me barf pretty frequently, which not only exhausts me, but also embarrasses me and makes me nervous about going out in public. Like, I don’t want to be person horking at The Laugh Factory. Stand up comedians are insecure enough. But the prednisone I take (the P in R-CHOP) as a part of the chemo makes me hungry and causes weight gain. Unfair, isn’t it?

The solution?

(I mean, of course, other than weed.)

Here’s what we’ve got. Miyasaka Instant Miso in Spinach flavor, Yehuda Matzo, and Command Nutrimax Banana Instant CereOats. This has become my lunch and often my dinner. Nutritionally, I get

• 240 calories
• 2 g fat
• 48 g carbs
• 11 g protein

And I also get 57% of the iron I need, which is a big deal, because all this stuff tends to make a bit anemic, and iron supplements are hard to keep down.

And now? I ask you for a tip!

My mouth has been dry and I have that super thick spit like it’s the leftover oatmeal juice in the bottom of the bowl. What’s the best way to keep my mouth un-gunked for a long period of time? Looking forward to hearing your suggestions.

When I moved to Los Angeles two years and 7 months ago, my experience in the business they call show was limited to one podcast and a public access appearance my senior year of high school to talk about the senior service projects. (I didn’t realize, until that broadcast, how much I said “um” and nodded. I still do the nodding thing. I hope it’s endearing, because it’s not going to stop.)

Within a year’s time, I was hired as a producer for an amazing company, One Economy Corporation. In my time at the company, I learned how to edit, how to do wardrobe, and how to do all things producerish, from paperwork to handling the talent. I love producing. It’s really something I’m good at. I feel comfortable pre-production, on set, and post-production. I get an amazing high from producing. I even love it more than (yeah, I’m going to say it) writing.

But there is one thing I love more than producing. (Not counting heirloom tomatoes, hot sauce, and my kids) And that is directing. I recently got to direct an episode of a new series on Public Internet Channel. The series, Front Seat Chronicles features the writing and directing of a handful of people, all presenting the intense moments that can happen in the front seat of a car. Broaching topics like unemployment, cancer, alzheimers, and more, this series is an opportunity to start a larger discussion, and that discussion is: “How do we fix this?”

So often we come across a bit of video, visual art, a song, a story or poem, and we are moved. We relate or we are made to see something we knew little about, and we feel connected. In the same sense, all too often, we feel helpless to handle the very issues we are faced with. So, why am I saying that this series is any different?

Each episode of Front Seat Chronicles is accompanied with a discussion guide for the episode, as well as a list of resources that are available related to the topics covered in the episode. We didn’t just say “Hey, isn’t unemployment hard?” We supplied a comprehensive list of employment and unemployment related resources. And that’s how we roll with all of the things we do at Public Internet Channel.

And so, while this isn’t my directoral debut. (That would be Real American Family) It is the first time I have written/directed/produced/edited a dramatic piece. I even got to use a jib. I’m really proud of what I made, really happy about the people I made it with, and more than a little bit stoked about the way this will hopefully impact people, both in raising awareness and in providing help for those who need it. Be sure to check out the episode here for the resources and discussions.

About a year and a half ago I was diagnosed with NHL, specifically Diffuse Large B-Cell lymphoma. At that time it was all spleen-central, and they took out my spleen, and all seemed fantastic, except for not having a spleen.

For those of you being all “Pfft. Spleen. What does a spleen even do?”, well, you’d be surprised. Your spleen isn’t sitting there playing cards with your appendix and watching soap operas. The spleen is a busy little hub of the lymphatic system, kind of screening out the big stuff before it gets sent any further. So, not having a spleen has meant I have gotten sick easier. If you have had a cold in the last year and half, I’ve gotten it from you, even if you live in stupid far-away-from-me places. (I’m looking at you, Wisconsin.)

But the thing about lymphoma is that you’re pretty likely to come down with a case of the cancer more than once. And this time around, there was no spleen to take care of the dirty work, so it’s all R-CHOP and radiation for this gal.

And now I’m bald and I have a rash on my head, and holy balls, you guys, I am really damn tired, and barfy, and my bones hurt really bad. I also noticed a marked increase in my complainy-ness.

But, I’ve been closed mouthed about this, and here’s why. YOU! PAY ATTENTION! I’ve been quiet about this becaaaaauuuuuse…

• If I get one single (((((((((hug))))))))))) about this, I might scream. I know you mean well, and you can’t hug me in person, and you want to send positive thoughts and all of that, and I swear I’m trying to be positive myself. But please, please, don’t bracket hug me. The cancer is making me feel pitiful enough. Which brings me to…
• I don’t want anyone to treat me differently. Don’t laugh harder at some lame joke, or look at me with those eyes you make when you look at a person who is sick. Don’t treat me like I’m sick. Beeeecauuuuuuse…
• I don’t want every conversation to be about cancer. I know, you want to know what’s up. You’re concerned. And know what? I’ll totally talk about it when I need to talk about it, and I promise you that if there is anything to tell you, I will tell you. Becaaaaaauuuuuse…
• I’m scared, too.

Most of the time I am keenly aware that I am kind of a larger than life person. Sounds a bit ego maniacal, but I am aware that I have had an extraordinary life, and that my life has impacted other people and will continue to do so. That’s no small thing. I have so much to accomplish, and I know know know that cancer isn’t going to kill me or stop me.

But sometimes I’m still scared, because I am human, and it’s hard not to be. So, if I’m not talking your head off about whatever phase I am at in my treatment, it might be that I need to process it before I can open my mouth. Wait for me. You know I’ll come around.

And yeah, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you personally. Don’t take it to heart. Get mad if you need to, but, honestly, how can you stay mad at me? I have cancer. That’d be rude as hell, yo.

So, look forward to me cracking jokes and posting photos of my disgusting skull soon enough. Much love to all of the people in my life. I know I don’t make stuff easy sometimes. Too bad. Quit your whining and make me a sandwich.