I've been struck by a mysterious ailment, which has made me mildly feverish. It happens. I am, however, forced to remind you that I have only two more weeks to raise the remaining 600 dollars to my goal. To those of you who have already donated, thank you. For those who intend to donate, your donations hinge on my successful completion of the 'thon or, in other words, you don't give any money until after the thon has been completed. There is also an option which allows you to change your pledge so if some hidden expense (like, say, a giant binge buying session at Godiva) crops up, you can alter your pledge appropriately. Any amount helps, a dollar, two-as always there is no amount of money so small that I (or the charity for which I am blogging) will not accept it. All donors shall receive a compliment bag of Bad Bunni's Brain Candy Mix-a special mix of candies that I bring to nibble on for any major film event.

Also you can help by putting posts on your blogs about the thon and links to fellow bloggers participating. My lovely monkey has put up a lovely link for me, but I need all of you others out there to help out as well. And send emails out to friends, even if they can't give, they can lend support through posts of their own or contacting others who are able to give.

By the end of the weekend, I hope to half way to my goal the 500 mark. There are some bloggers who have already surpassed 1000 so we can do it people. Because we're good enough, we're smart enough, and gosh darn it people like you. I will also give you some quality writing about forbidden sex in Parisian hotel rooms before the weekend is out. Be sure to make your pledge here.

Until then check out the new blog by my friend Mr. Hysteria.

Alright people. I'm going to share something with you. As hard as it is for me to write about sex, it's even harder for me to write about my health issues and disability. It's almost impossible. My parents never told me that I had cancer. I didn't find out until I was twelve, and I had to ask. I had heard a recitation of my medical history (I went to Boston Children's Hospital, a learning hospital, which meant my doctor entered with about 30 medical students, he would deliver my medical history, have them do a preliminary exam, do some other tests himself, deliver the prognosis, and then have a Q and A for the students every time I visited.) and noticed terms like radiation and chemotherapy. Even at twelve I knew what these were used to treat. I asked my parents and my mother told me I had indeed suffered from cancer. But that was is it. It was until I was 26 that I found out any other details and again I had to ask. What neither parent realized is because they never gave me an explanation for my disability other than "You were sick as a child," I literally thought I was insane. I couldn't otherwise explain why my body wouldn't obey my mind. To my knowledge there was NO reason, and therefore it had to be a failure of my mind. My father never wanted me to know what was wrong, that I had cancer. If he had his way, I would never have known. And thus the beginning of my belief that what makes me so unlovable, so inhuman is my disability.

As a result, I rarely do talk about my disability and when people chastise me with "I don't think of you as disabled," they don't realize what they are saying to me. They are putting me back in that place where there is no reason for my physical failures. Trust me, I'd rather be crazy, but I don't get the choice.

Which is why when I come out and write about what I went through as a child and ask all you all to either put up links, email friends, or donate money and the only two who pony up are Princeton of the gay blade and the Amazon, it seriously depresses me. Because it reinforces that fear, that essentially what makes me unlovable is my disability. And certainly, I am not asking for so much. As I said, take a few minutes and write a post if you are a blogger, or an email, or just tell a friend. The more people know, the more possible donors. And that's all good.

I've got three weeks to raise money. I'm doing the hard part, the thon, now make my effort worth it.