Life in the Slow Lane

Life in the Slow Lane

Monday, October 31, 2005

I am sick and mean...

Halloween 2005

In light of her recent weight gain... SUMO!!!!

For her boyfriends Linus and Oscar. Like a virgin indeed!

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Anotha Canca Update

Here is another update with all my recent appointments. First of all I start radiation therapy tomorrow. I have to admit I am a bit nervous even though I have been assured that this healing step is a walk in the park compared to chemo. My mom is coming with me for moral support, which will really help me from getting too nervous while I wait for my turn in the microwave.

I saw my plastic surgeon today and he is very nice. I was a little surprised as he is quite young and a little bit cute. I have never had cute docs before. My radiation doctor is a little bit cute too. Surrounded but a little bit cute men? Not too bad of a deal. Anyway, my surgery date is January 23rd 2006. This is for my mastectomy and the first step of reconstruction. I will have several steps to the reconstruction part and it is going to take me well into 2006 before it is all done. Fortunately once again I am in the hands of the best docs for my surgery. He was actually a little upset, as he would have liked to have started with my surgeries about a month ago, before my radiation started. But the Cancer Clinic did not get me referred to him until I was well finished with chemo instead of during it, which would have been perfect. So my end result will not be as good as it could be as radiated skin heals differently than pristine stuff. This is kinda upsetting to think about, as I would, of course, have preferred to have the best possible outcome. Anyway he and I have pledged to kick ass at the Cancer Clinic so this doesn’t happen to other mastectomy patients. And he says he is confident that I can still get a good set of hoots at the end of it all. Hoots is my word, not his.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005


I got a parcel in the mail today all the way from Alaska from Mrtl and there were two very unsavoury characters inside. Meet my new flrtls Tits and Hoots.

Mrtl tells me their colour is called ‘Melon’ and that is why she thought two was better than one. I couldn’t agree more. The first thing I thought when I saw them was that they were breast cancer pink. I also thought their feet were actually bows on their heads.

Nope, they are definitely feet. Silly me. So thank you very much Mrtl for my two new bosom buddies. They sit on my monitor and watch over me as I blog every day.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Mrtl's Motif Monday-Dates From Hell

Today’s topic at Mrtl’s Motif Monday is Bad Dates. Surprisingly with my spotty dating history I haven’t had too many terrible experiences. One does stand out for me though and still puzzles me a little. What can I say? It was weird.

When I was eighteen I met this guy, Dan, at a party of a friend of a friend. I knew him by sight as he was quite a popular guy and considered very cool in the local alternative scene. He knew everybody and everybody knew him. Or knew of him. He had shoulder length black hair and rode a motorcycle and was friends with all the local punk musicians and I had seen him at a lot of gigs. He was also quite a bit older than me. I don’t remember by exactly how much but quite a bit. I had just graduated from high school and was very shy and not popular or well known (unlike after I worked in that very trendy shoe store when I did become well known and popular in a bizarre way) and did not really pay much attention to Dan at this party. I was just talking with friends and not trying to impress anybody. I guess he noticed me and asked the hostess of the party who I was. She told me he wanted to ask me out and I simply don’t remember if he called me up or if the date was arranged through her. I think the latter. But arrangements were made and we were going to see a movie.

I was shit scared as this guy was soooo cool and I was soooo not and I remember being super nervous. The first thing that tipped me off that the date might not be all that fabulous was that he didn’t want to pick me up but asked me to meet him at his place instead. This was OK with me as I was embarrassed that I lived with my parents in the suburbs and didn’t want them to meet him as they probably wouldn’t approve. It also made sense to me that if we were going to see a flick downtown, where he also happened to live, it was logical to met him there. I arrived and waited in the living room while he finished getting ready. We left and started walking to the theatre. He didn’t say anything along the way and in the uncomfortable silence I believe I babbled like an idiot. We sat at the movie and he still didn’t say anything. Then the movie started and there was no handholding or anything. I think I tried to stir something up by touching his knee or something tentative like that and he totally ignored me. And I was humiliated by that minor rejection. We left the movie and went next door to get a coffee in a very trendy cafĂ©. He still hardly talked to me but knew somebody there and talked to them instead without introducing me. I was still so star-struck by this guy that even though I was pretty mad I didn’t say anything. I should have run away because it just got worse and the silences got longer. Dan then suggested we go to the local punk/trendy nightclub for a drink. I was scared about that as I was not legal drinking age yet (it is 19 in my province) and I looked very young. I rarely ever managed to get in without being ID’d and turned away. So we waited in the very long line up and he still didn’t say anything. At this point I was feeling very uncomfortable and sure he loathed me and so I wasn’t saying anything either. Dead silence. We had not waited very long before the bouncer spotted him and gestured for him to come up to the front. In fact the bouncer had recognised Dan as practically local royalty and so my lovely date turned around, waved and then walked into the club leaving me to wait in the line up on my own! Holy FUCK! I was so angry and upset and embarrassed and in utter disbelief. My first instinct was to walk away. But remember I was young and the second thought that entered my mind was that if I walked away he might think I got ID’d and didn’t get in and that was more embarrassing to me. So I stayed and waited about 45 minutes and managed to get in. I found him sitting by the bar surrounded by about a dozen gorgeous women and about that many drinks that had been bought for him by these gorgeous women. He saw me and pulled up a stool next to him for me to sit on and then proceeded to not talk to me but chat to every single gorgeous woman that surrounded us. And for about half an hour I sat there and got dirty looks and outright snubs from all these much older and very beautiful chicks. Their jealousy wasn’t even enough to redeem the night in any way. I don’t really remember exactly how the night ended but I think I just made some lame excuse and left early. I just couldn’t handle it. I never went out with him again (he never called and I never did either) although I saw him all the time. It was the weirdest date ever and I still wonder why he even asked me.

The funny thing is about 7 years later I ran into Dan at the neighbourhood corner store. I know he recognised me but he wasn’t saying anything, acting all cool. I absolutely HATE it when people do that so I always approach those kind of people and re-introduce myself and act all friendly because I never want to stoop to their level. So he warmed up somewhat and we had a little chat. It happened to be New Year’s Eve day and he asked what I was doing that night. I happened to be having a party and out of awkwardness told him he and whoever he wanted to bring were welcome to drop by never expecting to him accept the invitation. He didn’t and I didn’t think about him again. About three months later, one night out of the blue, my apartment buzzer rang and it was Dan dropping by. He had remembered my vague directions from the corner store. First of all I hate it when people just drop by without even a phone call first as I am often in my PJs and in total sloth mode. As it happened that night I had badly sprained my wrist at work and was on painkillers and totally out of it. I was dressed like a hobo and had no make-up on or anything. My roommate and I let him and served him tea and that guy talked our ears off for hours. I had no idea he could talk so much. It was spooky and kinda freaked me out a little. I finally had to ask him to leave so I could go to bed. Then he found my phone number in the phone book and started calling me, asking me out for coffee or to his place for videos and even occasionally including my roommate in the invitations as if it might make me feel more comfortable. Somehow I had caught his fancy with my splint and dirty hair and stained sweatshirt. I kept on refusing because:

1. I was soooo busy with school and work and didn’t have a lot of extra time.

2. I was not interested in him but in somebody else at my school whom I wanted to spend my precious time with.

After about the 10th time he had called and I had once again politely refused his invitation he got very snitty with me and said, “Well, you seem to be very busy all the time.” and I agreed that I was. He then hung up on me.


Friday, October 21, 2005

How Cancer And Public Disturbances Mix

Today is normally Crush Your Cat’s Head Friday but Yoshi and I are going to have to take a rain-cheque. My poor baby hurled all over the TV today and is feeling rather delicate. When one’s cat makes some exorcist dance moves like projectile vomiting one does not want to employ any kind of squeezing actions to her body. It is a personal safety thing.

Instead I am going to write about life lessons. Specifically relating to cancer and having it in one’s body. Even more specifically how this changes your worldly outlook. It, in fact, begins to make you a bit of a shit disturber.

As life toddles along and things happen in day-to-day living it is really easy to get caught up in little things. Petty things. I have been very guilty of this in the past. Being upset with my neighbours over noise or frustrated over bad drivers or angry at fictional characters on TV. We have all been there. Well, after undergoing all sorts of gory medical procedures and hearing all sorts of bad health news most of these things just don’t affect me like they used to. They are minor disturbances in ‘The Grand Scheme of Life.’ I admit on days when I am feeling good and the cancer is far in the back of my mind I forget my lessons and you can hear my muffled cursing floating from my car as I swerve dangerously close to cyclists. But on days when I am feeling tired and sick and shaky such happenings really don’t matter very much and you will find me all wise and metaphysical about things. Pretty much a smug oracle of eternal knowledge.

A couple weeks ago I went to a department store to pick up a couple items I desperately needed. I really didn’t feel much like shopping and was just planning on popping in and out of the store as fast as I could. I was waiting in line at the cashier’s desk behind this woman who was quite angry about something. At first I was not really paying attention as I was just trying to stay upright but as time went by and I continued to wait I started listening in on the discussion going on in front of me. What had happened was the lady had bought something using a gift card. The total was less than the gift card amount and there was money remaining on the card. Well, she insisted on getting that money back in cash. The sales lady explained that is was store policy that they could not refund the remaining amount on a gift card in cash. It was not an option on the cash register. They simply couldn’t do it. The woman said she understood but that she might not come back to the store for another year or so and just wanted the money back in cash. The sales clerk assured her that the amount left on the gift card would never expire and she could put it towards any future purchases but the store policy was that they couldn’t refund the money in cash. The woman was yelling pretty loudly at this point and kept on saying that while she understood the store policy she just didn’t understand why SHE couldn’t get the cash back. Basically that store policy be damned and that it didn’t apply to her. The salesclerk offered to bring the manager over but reiterated that they couldn’t alter the store policy. The woman was freaking at this point REALLY yelling that she wanted her cash RIGHT NOW! You want to know what the amount she was spazzing out over? $1.36. Yes, all this fuss over $1.36.

I am usually fairly shmellow and do not interfere in other peoples business but it was ALL I COULD DO not to say what was running though my mind. It was ALL I COULD DO to reign in my inner indignant old lady lacking all verbal restraint and eschewing social niceties. I desperately wanted to tap her gently on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me, ma’am. Here’s the thing. I have been standing behind you for about 10 minutes listening to your problem. Now MY problem is that I am a 36 years old who has just undergone 5 months of chemotherapy for breast cancer. Soon I will undergo radiation treatment at which time incredibly strong x-rays will nuke my body. A procedure so life altering it has been known to create super heroes from mere mortals. Immediately after that I will have both my breasts removed with sharp knives by a man with the word ‘plastic’ in his job title. I can assure you that none of this is pleasant in any way. While I would much rather be at home laying down and resting I am finding myself waiting in line behind you while you argue over $1.36. So please accept $2 for your fucking gift card and let’s end this INSANITY so I can get the fuck home where I belong.” But I didn’t say anything at all. I walked away to find another cashier’s desk to buy my stuff. At the time I was just too tired and didn’t want to cause a commotion.

Now that I am feeling much better and stronger I wish I had said something. I doubt in her anger the woman would have seen the absurdity of her request. She probably would have punched me in the head. My soon to be strong super hero head. But it would have been sooooo worth it.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005


I have this pet peeve. And I am annoyed as hell every time one has blinded me. “They” are those wrinkle cream commercials with close ups of the models’ eyes and other potentially wrinkly bits. Do they really expect us to be impressed with the results of their magic potions when the images are so overexposed that any wrinkles or blemishes are lost in the glare? Have you noticed this too? There is Andie McDowell with any facial expression lost in her glowing white complexion. She could be The Crypt Keeper and we would never be able to see it. Do they think women are stupid?

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

The Latest And The Greatest

I realised that it has been a while since I have updated you all about what is going on with my treatment. Here is the latest scoop.

I went to my chemo oncologist today for a follow up visit and she said I am doing great. I had an ultrasound of my liver recently as they had found spot on it prior to my chemotherapy. It is not uncommon for healthy people to have a spot on their liver. It is very bad to have more than one. So the good news is the spot is still there and totally unchanged. This means it is not cancer related at all but a normal spot-like spot. So good news from her.

I have had a couple visits with my radiation oncologist and that ball is rolling. I had a consultation where they took a CT scan so they can map out where they are going to radiate. At this appointment I got two tiny tattooed dots on my torso to help them nuke me the same place every time. The dots are very small. However Yoshi has noticed the one on my front and tries to lick it off for me. Negligibly helpful and ultimately futile. Try explaining that to a cat.

My radiation should start the last week of October or the first week of November. This means I get zapped every day, Monday through Friday, for 5 ½ weeks. 28 sessions in all. Fatigue is about the only side effect. There are some nasty very rare stuff that can happen but I am not thinking about that if I can.

There is a possibility that the radiation might be postponed if I can get into surgery right away. I have appointments with my cancer surgeon and my plastic surgeon at the end of the month. If they can operate on me within a week we will do that first. Such a quick turnaround time for surgery is rare so most likely it will be radiation first and surgery after. I have no idea what all my surgery will entail so I will update you all about that once I see the surgeons.

Now about the hair…after a fantastic start the hair growth has not only come to a halt but also settled down with a case of beer and a nicely filled bong for a looong evening in. It grew to about 1½ inches and then completely bailed out on me. Then it started falling out again and I have an odd thin spot on the right side of my head. What I am hoping is new fabulous hair is pushing the weak and weird hairs out. Hoping….hoping…. It is a little sad looking. I look like I have mange. Very attractive feature in a lady.

I am feeling much more perky but still get quite winded very easily. Yet I am trying to get out for walks every day. It doesn’t always happen as it has been raining very heavily which curtails my journeys somewhat. The other new thing is that I am getting really bad allergies. Probably leaf mold. I have never had hay fever before but my oncologist said that it might be that my mucus membranes (nice sounding, huh?) are more sensitive after my chemo and the sinus hell may soon disappear. I hope so as I feel really crappy.

The other thing is that I am suddenly putting on weight. Not nice. I had put on a little weight during chemo, which is supposedly quite normal with starchy food cravings and drastically reduced activity. These days I am eating better food with less junk and getting out way more so I was surprised to find my jeans getting tight. I was working up a very good shame spiral but the oncologist came to my rescue again. Apparently my hormones can be very out off wack after chemo so that could be the culprit. I grabbed onto that excuse and am holding tight.

So that is what is new with me on the Cancer Front. Right now it is all good and I am just enjoying my time off while I have it.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Who Knew?

I got tagged for this MEME from whfropera. So here goes…

If you want to do this yourself on your own blog just go to your favourite search engine, in my case dogpile, and enter “‘your name” needs.”

S***** needs…

-to graduate.

-$1.95 for a pack of gum.

-understanding, not rejection.

-support of the babysitter’s club.

-his posh apartment to get away from her parents and to start her career.

-me to update a file with additional research.

-to go.

-help getting her name out there.

-to find happiness.

-to write a short description.

-to move out of her parent’s house.

-to visit the real world and then re-think his.

-a worthy partner.

-to be awake to audition for Alan Brady.

-a break.

-to be amongst people of her own age and to be stimulated.

-help with feeding, bathing, dressing and grooming.

-your help to spread the word about her and her music.

-her medicine 3 times a day.

-a reminder of how bad airborne dust can get in Heartland, VT

-a lift.

-many surgeries to get rid of the excess skin.

-this part done ASAP.

-no introduction.

Friday, October 14, 2005

A Sappy Crush Your Cat's Head Friday -Or A Belated Motif Monday From MRTL

In the spirit of the film ‘When Harry Met Sally' I will tell you the many reasons why I love Yoshi.

I love it when she helps me with the laundry.

I love it that she humps up her back like an inchworm when she whines for food.

I love that she can go from insane running around to deepest sleep on my lap in less than one minute. Usually just when I have to get up to pee.

I love that she rests her head on my arm when I am trying to type.

I love that she purrs and talks back when she is getting into trouble.

I love it that she gets my attention at the computer by reaching up her paw so I can kiss it.

I love that under the covers she presses her freezing cold feet against my legs to get them warm again.

I love it when she moans in annoyance when I kiss her when she is sleeping.

I love it that she is able to find the exact centre of the bed to sleep on so I have to find space of my own around her.

I love that she whines at the door when I go to the bathroom.

I love that she loves to be scared. I surprise her whenever I can.

I love that when I hit the snooze button in the morning she will lick my eyelids just to make sure I get up.

I love that I am her most favourite person in the universe and she looks at me with love and trust.

I love it when she waits patiently until I am finished to lick my yogurt bowl.

I love it that she runs meowing to the door when I get home.

I love that she tries to crawl under my shirt when it is chilly out.

I love it when she climbs over my book at night when I am trying to read to get extra lovin’.

I love her velvet paws.

I love that her breath smells like low tide. Ok, I don’t love that at all.

I love it when she runs around the house and her back-end slides out on the hardwood floors.

I love that she totally understands me when I talk to her.

I love it that she has the uncanniest sense of time and will notify me that her 6 pm dinnertime has arrived. Right…on…the…dot!

I love it that she is so cuddly and wants to be near me (better yet, ON me) constantly.

I love it when she escapes into the hallway, meowing with glee, drunk with freedom and then gets so scared she runs back inside again.

I love it when she puts her ears back so her head resembles a wedge.

I love her big nose.

I love that she loves to be squeezed and have her head crushed.

I love it that she loves me to pick the gunk out of her eyes.

I love her pointy little face.

I love that she lets me dress her up in Halloween costumes.

And please go visit Sharkey who had to make the hardest decision about her sick dog Penny today. She and JP need love and hugs.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

The Giftie Follies

Ok, I can talk the talk but obviously I cannot walk the walk. Yesterday I posted gagging noises over the recent Christmas commercial I saw on TV. Well, I can only say that it must have worked on some subliminal level as I spent a good portion of my day purchasing Christmas gifts online. My defence is that I don’t think it really counts as Christmas shopping as it was done in the comfort of my own home while wearing pyjamas with a cup of tea nearby and a cat on my lap. True holiday shopping must involve crowds, line-ups and hysteria. All was lacking today.

I would love to tell you about all the cool shit I found via my computer but my family does read this blog. Christmas gifts are some of the few mysteries left in life and I don’t want to deny ‘the wonder’ to my kin. Let’s just say that my reputation as eerie-mind-reading-gift-giver will remain unchallenged this year.

I love giving presents and will spend hours researching and hunting down The Perfect Giftie for that special someone. I have the uncanny ability to recall that fifteen years ago Aunt Mildred mumbled under her breath to the dog that she was thinking about possibly getting that Hummel figurine of a boy in lederhosen. Not only will I locate the right one but I will find a signed copy and a record of its entire provenance. Yet, if I am introduced to you in any social situation I will immediately forget your name and the name of your spouse.

So I am curious. What would you say was the most perfect gift you ever gave and/or received and why?

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Shoot Me Now

It has begun. I saw my first Christmas commercial on TV last night. *GAG*

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Poo You

Yesterday was Canadian Thanksgiving. To celebrate the day I decided to have a big ol’ migraine. And then I gave thanks for Tylenol 3’s and my soft bed.

I really wanted to write something poignant about Yoshi for MRTL’S Monday Motif (pet theme this week) but she has given us all a week extension as she didn’t get around to it either. So look forward to that. Or not. I know I gush about that damned cat enough already.

On Saturday night Yoshi alerted me to the fact that the neighbourhood raccoons had come for another visit. My local posse consists of a momma and three babies. I have mentioned before how my back fire escape is the local raccoon loo. Saturday night was no exception and no less than three new poops were waiting for me in the morning.

So here are some very blurry photos of my little buddies taken through the window. I cannot actually open the door for a better shot as they are RIGHT THERE and are just aching to get in to watch my TV and drink my booze.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Lick It Up

I am enchanted with a new TV show I stumbled upon today. MuchMusic (Canadian MTV) is offering a little gem called Rock School. The premise is that a class of school kids will be taught to be a decent rock band; an idea taken from the movie School of Rock starring Jack Black. Yet much of the show’s charm is the quaintness of the children. These kids go to a very prestigious boarding school for the musically inclined in England. The uniforms resemble British barrister robes and are only missing the wigs. It is like they have been left behind in time. I think the age range is about 12-13 years for both boys and girls and they all have very upper crust accents. Snore, you say. So what? Oh, but there is more. The school has brought in an expert to teach these children rock n’ roll. The music instructor, a scion of authority and respectability, is none other than Gene “My Tongue Is An Extra Appendage” Simmons of KISS. Oh yeah, it is getting good. Mr. “Tie My Uvula In A Knot” walks into this class of innocent souls and educates/corrupts them on the finer points of rocking out. Do you have any idea how much money I would pay to be part of that class? BITCHMILLIONS! I have to confess to a certain fascination with Gene “Orally Hypnotic” Simmons starting in early teenhood. We are not talking about a typical rock star crush but more a morbid curiosity that somebody like that is actually real and not a cartoon character. He is simply, too good to be true.

So Mr. Luscious Mc Lickerson shows these little freaks that rock is not about technique and precision like they have been taught classical music to be all these years but about feeling and emotion and kicking ass. “Why little freaks,” you ask? The kids know NOTHING about rock music. Somehow, some way, their parents managed to raise them in a closet thus keeping them totally ignorant of The Devil’s Anthems. So posters of Jimi Hendrix and Axel Rose go up on the walls. The kids are encouraged to act out and air guitar on their desks to the horror of the headmistress. A lead singer is chosen based not on his singing ability but due to the fact that he is an outcast and, frankly, a bit weird. This is a show after my own heart.

Next week the kids debate with Gene Slutfestival Simmons his claim to have slept with over 4600 women. I am so tuning in for that.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Phonus Interruptus

My mom and I talk on the phone quite often. It has gotten to the point where we can say bizarre things to each other without really noticing. Who really knows if it is denial or total acceptance. If you were eavesdropping on our phone conversation yesterday this is what you would have heard:

Mom- (interrupting me in mid sentence) Can you hold on? I have to take my pants off.


Apparently she was hot.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

She Shoots, She Scores!

Hockey is back on TV starting tonight and, yes, I will be watching. My mom is slightly repulsed that I do enjoy this demon sport that seduces her husband away from her right at dinnertime for a half of the year. She has alluded that I am a traitor to my gender. I have to admit I wasn’t always a hockey fan and it did not come easily to me. It was more a function of necessity as back in the day it was either sitting in the living room, at every social gathering, with the guys (including my boyfriend) watching hockey or sitting in the kitchen with the wives listening to them talk about what assholes their husbands are and how Little Bobby is a freakin’ genius. I made my escape from wifely hell into the living room and slowly, slowly hockey started making sense to me.

A while ago my dad and I actually went to a hockey game to do some male bonding over beers and rubber nachos. It was a great night out but I have to admit that I was lost a lot of the time without the very informative commentator telling me what the hell was going on. Just when I would make out the name on the back of the jersey of the guy with the puck he would pass that bad boy and I would be back to square one. I found my attention wandering and some really excellent people watching commenced. Sport fanatics are a weird bunch with interesting outfits and face paint. Another time I went to a game with a friend and we got dirty looks for not participating in The Wave.

I don’t have the same focus on the screen as the guys do as I am not a hunter but a gatherer and can easily gossip with any or all who are willing to listen as well as write out my Christmas cards, plan for my weekend, cook a meal, play with the cat and eliminate world debt all the while cursing the refs and burping out loud.

Even now that I actually know what ‘offside’ means (even if I am not quick enough to know when it happens) and know vaguely who is on my local team (Go Canucks!) I still embarrass myself on a regular basis.

I often comment on how gross it is when the players spit and wonder why they can’t put a bucket behind the bench for discreet lugies. I have been known to pontificate on the finer points of each team’s outfits and hair-dos and facial hair. I fluctuate wildly between cheering on bloodthirsty fighting and berating individuals for being ‘mean’. I make up my own cute nicknames for players because I rarely remember the player’s names and mispronounce the ones I do know. I still ask stupid questions; the very same ones I ask every game because I don’t consider a dirty look or a frantic shushing hand gesture an adequate response. What is wrong with wondering who has the least teeth or why mullets are so prevalent?

But I love hockey because it is fast paced and thrilling as hell. The players are so young and emotionally invested in the game it is inspiring to watch them. I love that the game can turn in an instant. You can be behind and rally to kick ass at the very last second and you can lose a game the exactly same way. I love that it all takes place on ice causing amazing wipeouts and fantastic acrobatics. It is just so damned exciting!

So yes, I will be watching hockey tonight. And I will be watching America’s Next Top Model and doing my laundry at exactly the same time.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

At Which Point You Wonder Why You Even Bother To Come Here

I am going to be a lame-o and bail out of blogging tonight. I have terrible allergies and just want to lie down for a little while. I am wondering if it is a cold. Sneezing, sniffling, outright nose blowing, itchy and watery eyes, and a bad case of the grumps. *SNIVEL*

To tie you over here is a link my sister-in-law sent to me. It is brilliant. I highly recommend checking it out. Pretend I wrote it. I wish I had.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Monday Update

I would have loved to have posted over the weekend but Blogger had other ideas. Blogger was in the midst of a grand mal hissy and no amount of computer refreshing could change its mind. So today you are stuck with a Weekend Roundup:

1. The cat chased a moth around my apartment in the wee hours of Saturday causing mayhem. Knick-knacks flying off of shelves and lamps falling over kind of mayhem. This was a moth with a serious will to live as it fluttered into every nook and cranny opposed to immolating itself on a light bulb like normal moths do. Anyway, Asscat rampaged for a full three hours, which only further confused me (on top of the annoyance/rage). Why does she not have this kind of focus when I am trying to teach her to pick up my take-out sushi or give me a mani/pedi? Damn her and that selective ADD.

2. My mom and I are very close but we experienced a freakish mind meld this weekend that still gives me shivers. Out of the blue Saturday night I thought to myself, “Mmmmm. Pie! I would love some pie. Apple pie. Maybe next birthday I should request apple pie instead of cake. MMMmmm. Pie.” Then Sunday morning my mom called me and we were talking about our regular Sunday night dinner plans. Suddenly she said, “Guess what I made for you, special.” Immediately I yelled, “Apple PIE!” And I was right. My mommy read my mind and made me apple pie for Sunday’s dessert. Spooky!

3. It became very obvious this weekend that I have developed a very sudden and startling ‘Raisin Bran’ addiction. Can’t get enough of the cereal. I wake up in the morning and it is the first thing on my mind. I have a wee bowl right before bed too. LOVE IT! Any other cereal addictions out there? Should I expand my repertoire?

4. Bad news. My hair is falling out. All of a sudden. I don’t know why. I don’t know if this is normal. I have noticed that the hairs that are falling are not normal hairs. They are weird and inconsistent textured hairs, so I am hoping they are being forcibly pushed out by fabulous thick hairs that are not weird but perfect and strong. I will get the low-down from my doc at my Thursday appointment.

So that was my weekend in a nutshell. Well, the important stuff anyway.