Last night a dear Goddess came over for pizza, beer, and good times. It was great. The old folks were away on vacation, and we were drinking. Sounds like high school, doesn't it? Except that we're both in our thirties and have children. That's only a small discrepency in the rowdy teenager senario, but if we want the fantasy of youth for a fleeting moment the kids will have to be omitted from the story. But that's not really the story, so we can keep the kids for awhile...

See, last night She set me straight on an issue that's been growing on my mind. Hair. I actually complained about hair. Not the lack of it mind you, but the presence of it...all over. very annoying. She of course laughed at me and reminded that I was crying for hair a few weeks ago. Yes. I know. I was lamenting and begging all the Powers That Be for hair of any kind, but now I have to shave. nyaah. I forgot how quickly my shaven hairs grow.

The one good thing about the chemo experience would be the lack of body hair. I am going to miss those carefree, razorless days of smooth skin. I won't wax. I've been in pain too much this past year to take that up.

The other day Goddess GB laughed when I told her that I felt like a yeti because I noticed all the microscopic hairs growing on my face and arms. I am so used to being completely bald, but now I'm too hairy for theVGER lady from Star Trek. So who should I go as for Halloween? GI Jane? Sinead O'Connor? Or Ripley from Aliens?

ahhh. human nature...when it's summer and hotter than hell how we wish it were winter and colder than a witch's tit.