It's been a little over 2 weeks, and I'm having more and more dreams about hair. It's not just about scalp hair either. I dream about eyelashes, eyebrows, pubic hair, toe hairs, hand hairs, arm hairs, armpit hairs, and leg hairs. Every kind of hair you can think of. These all kept falling out right up until last week. gargh! The good news is that my head is itchy. Really itchy. 4 more weeks to go till I get a good GI Jane going.

There is only one kind of hair I DO NOT want back....chin hair. Come on Ladies...can I get a witness?

8 down. 0 to go. Today was the last day. It took them 4 times to get a needle in my arm. My right arm hates me. I can get my recon anytime I want. I start the Taxol in a month, and don't have to see the oncologist for a month. BTW, I can't stop smiling.

Thanks Goddessess and Queens and various friends, humble servants, and chillins who came last night. It was mellow, and that's exactly how I wanted it. Ya'll are beautiful!

Here's to health!

My week has delightful.

I learned a lot like I'm a wiennie. There's no complaining when there's babies out there who go through 30 treatments of chemo with heavier drugs than what I have to deal with. My heart goes out them and their families.

I got A LOT of yard work done and found out that the reason why I've gotten so tired and dizzy was cuz I'm anemic again. Whatever...get a shot and it goes away. I still have work to do, but the weather is cooperating and the yard is coming together. So if you're coming on Sunday no talking about various holes and weeds throughout the yard! There's a lot to do.

Tennessee Tilly (ex-mom-in-law) who's extremely conservative (public schools shouldn't exist and America is god's gift to the Earth kind) sent me one of those cutesy emails people send. What sets this one apart from the other 1,000,000 cutesy emails she's sent is that it ends with this quote: Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel. hmmm....... She did spawn my ex...

I have woken up every morning this week singing these lyrics:

I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
And everything's gonna be alright
yes, everything's gonna be alright...

You get the idea. Now it's off to the Elvis Parade!

Yesterday I took the PinkZilla to the KC zoo. We had the best time! I lose energy pretty quickly, and I was wondering how I was going to handle it all. PinkZilla was a treat! Zilla helped pushed the stroller, watched Pinkie when I need to hit the restrooms, and informed us about the animals we were looking at. Pinkie came up with her own information, ate her food (miracle), and demanded to go shopping only two or three times. They didn't argue until we were almost home. They're typical siblings full of pranks and various consternations specifically designed for the bedevilment of the other, but that day they were angels with only tiny horns and itty-bitty vibrated tails.

It was the most relaxing time I've had out with the kids since I can remember. We saw everything we came to see and a lot more than usual even though I didn't put them on the death march that my usual speed is. I let them eat candy. They didn't argue, complain, or whine. I think hell froze for awhile yesterday.

People looked at us. I know it can't be helped. Folk look at folk, and we had a tired looking bald woman (me) leading a small ragtag troupe of baboons (PinkZilla). I got my laughs at Pinkie. I kept taking my hat off and walked about with a snakeskin print umbrella to the amusement of others. I'm not paranoid. I could hear giggling. I would've giggled too. Pinkie was mortified. Can a child get mortified before puberty? "Mom, I don't like it. Put it back on." "Please, kid. You don't know these people." "Why do you talk to people you don't know?" "Because they're human, and that's just who I am." If she'd just notice that I also talk to animals.

I got my laughs at Zilla who would not use the public restroom because "It's too noisy in there, Mom." Me and Pinkie sat there for twenty minutes waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to pooh. I made him get out of the way of a grandpa who waited patiently for his brood's time to enter the family pooh room. I shouldn't laugh. I'm not a public pooher either except for one horrible incident at a busy restaurant. That cured me of my shy shitter....maybe not.

I guess that's the vacation me and my PinkZilla got this year. We needed that small excursion emotionally and physically. Go there when it cools off again. They got the short cut opened, and the Kid Zone is a blast (AC).

I have been wondering when the mother-daughter confrontations and tension would begin. I thought it was when puberty started rear its ugly head. No. It's not. My Pinkie is 5 years old, and she rolls her eyes at me with such effort that only the most adept eye-rollers can muster. She is also queen at making the most astound and loudest assertions with the most profound belief in them. I WILL see those Asian giraffes someday, Kansas IS just a small part of Lawrence (Johnson County is actually another country), and snacktime IS at 6 pm no matter what I say.

Hot is cold and cold is hot, by the way. You don't want to contradict her. Not only would that embarass the little goddess but it would seriously piss her off into a tyrade that Eris herself would never have been able to conceive.

I am proud of Pinkie. She has confidence and knows what she wants. It can be a little annoying when she's screaming at the top of her voice because foxes only come in red and she has to wear the blue and green striped tank with the pink and red plaid skorts.

What I'm proud of is that she will contradict the religious mores being instilled in her by her over-zealous grandparents. She's sassy and she thinks ...sometimes. Ahh....my little rebel.

7 down. 1 more to go. I want my hair. I want my eyebrows. It'll be a few days before I stop hurting. My nails look like they'll detach from my fingers at any moment. My doc says they won't, but I've heard tales. Sheesh. People tell their tales, and sometimes it's just not helpful.

All these drugs are keeping my body exhausted but my brain working on new ideas (which is good). I've been down these past months. It's kind of hard to work on projects when your mind is obsessing on something. I've now decided to turn that obsession into something to keep my creative juices flowing. So the next set of stuff might seem depressing, but I swear it's not. It's just about my determination to be over this shit for good. Of course it'd have to physical. I'm "innarda" after all.

I'm going to count my blessings. Someone I've just come into knowing and caring about is having a harder time.

If only it'd cool off and rain, then maybe this bad funk would lift a little.