In retrospect, the first four chemos, which were the FEC combo, were a walk in the park. I totally kicked that chemo's ass. Now, this chemo, the Taxol-Capecitibine combo, is kicking my ass. The capecitibine is the chemo that comes in pill form. My nurse told me to stop taking it altogether for the rest of this cycle because of the mouth sores and all that. So my dosage will be lowered next cycle, which is on Wednesday.
Basically, I feel terrible. I have okay days where I'm able to do some stuff, but I assess my energy level to be 50% of what it used to be. Thankfully, after Wednesday, I only have one more chemo to endure. I do hope that this is all worth it in the end.
With all that's happening to my body, I've been having super-strong urges to do some body modification, like in the good old days. But of course, needles are out of the question, so no tattoos or piercings. Yesterday, I just suddenly became obssessed with earlobe stretching. So on the way back from massage therapy, I popped into the Puncture Haus and inquired about it. It's a long process, involving increasing sizes of rings and such. So I bought my first set of 14 gauge hoops and am on my way to stretching my earlobes. In a way, it's like taking some control over my body because I've lost so much control over it.
Anyway, it's snowing now. A really wet snow. Good weather for hibernating.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Trips
I've been told to stop taking my chemo pills for the next few days. My mouth broke out in painful sores, and my hands are swollen, red, and cracking. And my nose is all bloody and scabby inside. I feel like a mutant. Can't imagine what my liver looks like. Don't want to know.
I went with Chloe and Mylo on a preschool field trip to Burnaby Village Museum yesterday. I'm sure they had a blast, but I thought it was really lame, and cold. My feet were burning. I could feel my soles cracking.
DH is away in Washington, DC. Am I happy about this? No. Am I understanding about this? No. Am I forgiving? Maybe someday. When I was reading Her Baldness, the author would talk about how she felt when her partner had to go on business trips, and all the mixed emotions she felt, and it really mirrored my feelings. Part of me does want to feel independent and be okay with him going on a trip, and be rational and understanding. The litle girl inside who's sick is screaming, "Hey, you're supposed to be taking care of me, and instead you go some place more important?" And I know he feels bad for going. Plus he's not well himself, as he's had a really bad cold the past week. Anyway, I'm sure we'll work it out. I think perhaps a trip by myself would be fair, don't you? I've been thinking of going on one of those meditation retreats.
I went with Chloe and Mylo on a preschool field trip to Burnaby Village Museum yesterday. I'm sure they had a blast, but I thought it was really lame, and cold. My feet were burning. I could feel my soles cracking.
DH is away in Washington, DC. Am I happy about this? No. Am I understanding about this? No. Am I forgiving? Maybe someday. When I was reading Her Baldness, the author would talk about how she felt when her partner had to go on business trips, and all the mixed emotions she felt, and it really mirrored my feelings. Part of me does want to feel independent and be okay with him going on a trip, and be rational and understanding. The litle girl inside who's sick is screaming, "Hey, you're supposed to be taking care of me, and instead you go some place more important?" And I know he feels bad for going. Plus he's not well himself, as he's had a really bad cold the past week. Anyway, I'm sure we'll work it out. I think perhaps a trip by myself would be fair, don't you? I've been thinking of going on one of those meditation retreats.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Adventures
The blog has become somewhat visually boring, so I thought I'd post some pictures of November highlights. November begins not only the holiday season, but birthday season as well. My mom's birthday is at the beginning of November, then little Mylo, then me, then my mother-in-law, then my father-in-law, then my niece, my sister, my nephew...So here's just some of the happy occasions:
{Trains and cake--a dream come true for the birthday boy!}
{Happy Birthday to you, dear Mylo..."}
{a visit from Auntie Vicki and Auntie Lisa--on Spanish Banks}
{Harley, Maia, the kids and DH help me celebrate my 32nd.}
{Karin brought over a delicious Bon Ton Diplomat cake which was a first for me, although I heard about it several times during the writing workshop I taught. It was heavenly rich!}
{Here we are blowing out the candles, but what I really like about this picture is how DH looks like a fucking freak--and I say that with nothing but love.}
{a fancy schmancy birthday brunch at the Pan Pacific with DH, the kids, and my in-laws.}
{celebrating my birthday at the book launch for Eating Stories }
{Random pic of Chloe and Mylo standing at attention in Richmond}
{Random cute pic of Chloe grinning}
{My mother-in-law on her birthday--with her two innocent, sweet, cute granddaughters.}
Okay, so those are the end of the November-December happy birthday highlights. Now back to some serious business. My eyebrows are gone as of yesterday. They kinda just came off when I washed my face with a washcloth. There were a few scraggly stubborn hairs that looked just pathetic and lame, so I plucked them out. The odd thing is that the hair on my head is sprouting. But I guess there's little logic to chemo. So I kinda look freaky now:
{furrowing my no-brow}
{raising my no-brow}
I don't want to draw in eyebrows because then I think I look like a clown. Luckily, I have a scar above where my brow used to be from a bicycle accident I had almost twenty years ago. I almost got hit by a pick-up truck. My near-death experience then has given me some semblance of brow where it is absent from my chemo experience now. Thank god for scars.
So beginning with my the loss of my eyebrows, yesterday was weird, amazing, magical, and like a big old adventure.
After acupuncture, I thought I was just going to go home on foot. I started walking on Broadway. There was a nightclub that had closed down, and a temporary thrift store set up shop there. I walked by this place several times but never gave it a thought to go in. But yesterday, I was drawn upstairs to the store. I almost turned back upon entry--it was dark, sticky, smelled weird, and I couldn't see anyone in there. There were handwritten signs encouraging me to probe further: "Come on in!" "Great deals!" So I reluctantly moved further inside.
I walked around a little bit and saw a cute, clean-looking stuffed reindeer, and I decided that I would buy it since the sign outside said that proceeds go toward the SPCA. I like animals, so why not. A nice older lady came to chat with me about it. She told me it was five bucks, but all I had was U.S. cash (don't ask), which she gladly accepted. Anyway, I walked around some more, and found an awesome box for $1. I love boxes. This one had a mirror (that was falling off but could be glued back on) and a little drawer. Then I saw two pieces of cloth that would be great for reading tarot cards. So I held onto my treasures and trudged back to the front of the store. I started talking with the lady, who told me I had a nice smile and a really good heart. She blessed me and hugged me, and just made me feel all warm inside. She would ask me what stuff was when she couldn't figure out what the items were for (some of it was really weird shit), and we would think of what stuff could be used for. Then she said, "What's this?" I said, "A dirty diaper." She said, "Good heavens! Why would someone leave a diaper here like that?" She was really disturbed and went to the back to bleach her hands after disposing the diaper. But she was happy that I told her what it was. She said, "I almost opened the thing to see."
So then I left and went to Toys R Us and walked around dizzily for an hour. I didn't buy much, but just sort of observed the Christmas spirit. Everyone seemed in a daze.
With bags in hand, I decided to take the #9 home. I got on the bus, and a dude and his two daughters sat next to me. He was chewing them out for not getting good enough grades and all that. I felt bad for the girls, who were about 6 and 8 years old. Suddenly, the sun peeked through and there was this gorgeous, huge rainbow spreading across the city. I wiped the condensation off the window and told the guy, "hey, there's a rainbow." He and his kids stopped fighting and were admiring the rainbow, with the rest of the bus.
Instead of going all the way to the stop near my house, I decided to get off at Main St. I hadn't seen my friend Burcu in ages, and I felt compelled to show her the rainbow. When I reached her store (Burcu's Angels), she was standing out front, and we both admired the rainbow. Then she realized who I was (after not being able to recognize me sans hair). She invited me to come in and chat.
I sat on her couch in the living room in the back of her store, and burst out in tears! It was the weirdest thing! I just started crying, and she hugged me and introduced me to all the people who were in the store. In no time, we were laughing, and they were giving me compliments on my baldness. One girl said she thought I looked cool and hardcore and that she had a male friend who was into beautiful bald chicks (she told me it's a good thing I'm beautiful, which made me blush). Then we got to joking about how there's no Buddhist monk fetish porn out there, and that I should pioneer the field. Burcu's Angels is a magical place where the freaks feel at home--and I felt sooooo at home. So then I wandered around the store and picked up a lovely blouse. Burcu insisted that I try it on, and when I came out with it on, she gave it to me! She also gave me a huge bag of dried lavender--and lavender is something that makes me feel so calm and happy.
So I left Burcu's and started walking home again. Then, for some reason, I stopped in at Temple of the Modern Girl Boutique, another vintage store. I've seen this store many times but never stepped foot in it. There, a lovely girl named Sarah helped me try on things. She also helped me furiously try to take off something. I tried on this red and black lace number, which went on okay, but when I went to take it off, it wouldn't budge. So I yelled "Help!" We thought we might have had to cut off the dress! Perhaps in the past, I would have been totally horrified that this was happening, but because my body has been poked, prodded, fondled, grabbed, and contorted, I really thought this was hilarious! I knelt down on the fitting room floor, held my arms up straight, and Sarah got a good grip of the lace and started yanking it off me like tug-of-war. My boobs were like flashing everywhere, and just then, another customer came in and asked what we were doing. Anyway--thanks to Sarah for putting up with me! I'm sure that wasn't in her job description. So much for vintage!
Anyway, that was my weird day. And here are the goodies:
I leave you with Chloe's latest artwork: her depiction of Santa Claus. Seasons freakin' greetings.
{Trains and cake--a dream come true for the birthday boy!}
{Happy Birthday to you, dear Mylo..."}
{a visit from Auntie Vicki and Auntie Lisa--on Spanish Banks}
{Harley, Maia, the kids and DH help me celebrate my 32nd.}
{Karin brought over a delicious Bon Ton Diplomat cake which was a first for me, although I heard about it several times during the writing workshop I taught. It was heavenly rich!}
{Here we are blowing out the candles, but what I really like about this picture is how DH looks like a fucking freak--and I say that with nothing but love.}
{a fancy schmancy birthday brunch at the Pan Pacific with DH, the kids, and my in-laws.}
{celebrating my birthday at the book launch for Eating Stories }
{Random pic of Chloe and Mylo standing at attention in Richmond}
{Random cute pic of Chloe grinning}
{My mother-in-law on her birthday--with her two innocent, sweet, cute granddaughters.}
Okay, so those are the end of the November-December happy birthday highlights. Now back to some serious business. My eyebrows are gone as of yesterday. They kinda just came off when I washed my face with a washcloth. There were a few scraggly stubborn hairs that looked just pathetic and lame, so I plucked them out. The odd thing is that the hair on my head is sprouting. But I guess there's little logic to chemo. So I kinda look freaky now:
{furrowing my no-brow}
{raising my no-brow}
I don't want to draw in eyebrows because then I think I look like a clown. Luckily, I have a scar above where my brow used to be from a bicycle accident I had almost twenty years ago. I almost got hit by a pick-up truck. My near-death experience then has given me some semblance of brow where it is absent from my chemo experience now. Thank god for scars.
So beginning with my the loss of my eyebrows, yesterday was weird, amazing, magical, and like a big old adventure.
After acupuncture, I thought I was just going to go home on foot. I started walking on Broadway. There was a nightclub that had closed down, and a temporary thrift store set up shop there. I walked by this place several times but never gave it a thought to go in. But yesterday, I was drawn upstairs to the store. I almost turned back upon entry--it was dark, sticky, smelled weird, and I couldn't see anyone in there. There were handwritten signs encouraging me to probe further: "Come on in!" "Great deals!" So I reluctantly moved further inside.
I walked around a little bit and saw a cute, clean-looking stuffed reindeer, and I decided that I would buy it since the sign outside said that proceeds go toward the SPCA. I like animals, so why not. A nice older lady came to chat with me about it. She told me it was five bucks, but all I had was U.S. cash (don't ask), which she gladly accepted. Anyway, I walked around some more, and found an awesome box for $1. I love boxes. This one had a mirror (that was falling off but could be glued back on) and a little drawer. Then I saw two pieces of cloth that would be great for reading tarot cards. So I held onto my treasures and trudged back to the front of the store. I started talking with the lady, who told me I had a nice smile and a really good heart. She blessed me and hugged me, and just made me feel all warm inside. She would ask me what stuff was when she couldn't figure out what the items were for (some of it was really weird shit), and we would think of what stuff could be used for. Then she said, "What's this?" I said, "A dirty diaper." She said, "Good heavens! Why would someone leave a diaper here like that?" She was really disturbed and went to the back to bleach her hands after disposing the diaper. But she was happy that I told her what it was. She said, "I almost opened the thing to see."
So then I left and went to Toys R Us and walked around dizzily for an hour. I didn't buy much, but just sort of observed the Christmas spirit. Everyone seemed in a daze.
With bags in hand, I decided to take the #9 home. I got on the bus, and a dude and his two daughters sat next to me. He was chewing them out for not getting good enough grades and all that. I felt bad for the girls, who were about 6 and 8 years old. Suddenly, the sun peeked through and there was this gorgeous, huge rainbow spreading across the city. I wiped the condensation off the window and told the guy, "hey, there's a rainbow." He and his kids stopped fighting and were admiring the rainbow, with the rest of the bus.
Instead of going all the way to the stop near my house, I decided to get off at Main St. I hadn't seen my friend Burcu in ages, and I felt compelled to show her the rainbow. When I reached her store (Burcu's Angels), she was standing out front, and we both admired the rainbow. Then she realized who I was (after not being able to recognize me sans hair). She invited me to come in and chat.
I sat on her couch in the living room in the back of her store, and burst out in tears! It was the weirdest thing! I just started crying, and she hugged me and introduced me to all the people who were in the store. In no time, we were laughing, and they were giving me compliments on my baldness. One girl said she thought I looked cool and hardcore and that she had a male friend who was into beautiful bald chicks (she told me it's a good thing I'm beautiful, which made me blush). Then we got to joking about how there's no Buddhist monk fetish porn out there, and that I should pioneer the field. Burcu's Angels is a magical place where the freaks feel at home--and I felt sooooo at home. So then I wandered around the store and picked up a lovely blouse. Burcu insisted that I try it on, and when I came out with it on, she gave it to me! She also gave me a huge bag of dried lavender--and lavender is something that makes me feel so calm and happy.
So I left Burcu's and started walking home again. Then, for some reason, I stopped in at Temple of the Modern Girl Boutique, another vintage store. I've seen this store many times but never stepped foot in it. There, a lovely girl named Sarah helped me try on things. She also helped me furiously try to take off something. I tried on this red and black lace number, which went on okay, but when I went to take it off, it wouldn't budge. So I yelled "Help!" We thought we might have had to cut off the dress! Perhaps in the past, I would have been totally horrified that this was happening, but because my body has been poked, prodded, fondled, grabbed, and contorted, I really thought this was hilarious! I knelt down on the fitting room floor, held my arms up straight, and Sarah got a good grip of the lace and started yanking it off me like tug-of-war. My boobs were like flashing everywhere, and just then, another customer came in and asked what we were doing. Anyway--thanks to Sarah for putting up with me! I'm sure that wasn't in her job description. So much for vintage!
Anyway, that was my weird day. And here are the goodies:
I leave you with Chloe's latest artwork: her depiction of Santa Claus. Seasons freakin' greetings.
Monday, December 3, 2007
How I See Me
When I picture myself in my head, I still have hair. I'm 23 going on 24, and I'm in Madison, Wisconsin. The most pressing thing in my life at the moment is outlining my thesis and producing a lit review for my advisor. I'm thinking about how the Vietnamese language studies I'm doing that summer will make my thesis more poignant. I also have sincere wishes to be able to communicate better with my mother. I even feel like the intense Midwest humidity will make me be able to understand my mother better, because white people who've been to Vietnam tell me that it's just like this--the humidity always on the brink.
I go to BW3 every Tuesday with Julie for their wing special. We never touch the Blazin', but usually go for the spicy garlic and honey bbq. We have some beers and plan our camping trip for the weekend. I'm pretty psyched that I brought my tent from LA. It's been great driving the country roads and discover the oddities of Wisconsin. It was cool, for example, to meet old man Burlingame after me and Julie stoped by the side of the road to buy a stool he had at the end of his driveway to sell. I convinced Julie she really needed to buy that stool.
I struggle with this picture in my head--I can't remember if I actually had pigtails that summer or not. I went through a lotta long hair/short hair battles. Maybe I was in transition.
It's true, though, that frequently the picture in my head is me, smiling with pigtails, no glasses, rainbow tank top and light denim skirt, and it's me leaning over to Julie asking, "One more? another spicy garlic..." And Julie, licking her fingers, taking a gulp of beer, just grins.
I go to BW3 every Tuesday with Julie for their wing special. We never touch the Blazin', but usually go for the spicy garlic and honey bbq. We have some beers and plan our camping trip for the weekend. I'm pretty psyched that I brought my tent from LA. It's been great driving the country roads and discover the oddities of Wisconsin. It was cool, for example, to meet old man Burlingame after me and Julie stoped by the side of the road to buy a stool he had at the end of his driveway to sell. I convinced Julie she really needed to buy that stool.
I struggle with this picture in my head--I can't remember if I actually had pigtails that summer or not. I went through a lotta long hair/short hair battles. Maybe I was in transition.
It's true, though, that frequently the picture in my head is me, smiling with pigtails, no glasses, rainbow tank top and light denim skirt, and it's me leaning over to Julie asking, "One more? another spicy garlic..." And Julie, licking her fingers, taking a gulp of beer, just grins.
Odds and Ends
When I feel a little lost, I read some of the blogs that you find on the right side of this blog. Last week, I checked up on "Too Sexy for My Hair," a wonderful blog by a gal named Lori, and I was really saddened to see that she passed away last month--one month exactly before her 32nd birthday. I felt a certain kinship with Lori--even though I never met her in my life or even exchanged comments with her-- because she was two days younger than I. She had been battling cancer for five years. Eventually, as her husband reported, her liver couldn't take anymore because of the chemo and gave out. Her husband Cary updates her blog every day with loving memories of Lori, so I encourage you to check out his beautiful words and tribute to her.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about death and the possibility of my passing (well, we all die, but you know what I mean). I know that the chances that I will come through with flying colors are pretty good, but I can't help but think of the what-if's, especially since I have two little kids. I've been thinking a lot about the surgery too, which isn't until March or April, but it's just freaking me out a little. Okay, more than a little. The idea of being rearranged like that. Unsettling.
So now some of my personal projects and goals include establishing a little archive for my kids, in the event that the worst-case scenario happens. I'm thinking of making a video, writing down more things for them, and all that. In the best case scenario, I will be able to look back at all these things five, ten years from now and reflect on them. Life is a project, no?
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about death and the possibility of my passing (well, we all die, but you know what I mean). I know that the chances that I will come through with flying colors are pretty good, but I can't help but think of the what-if's, especially since I have two little kids. I've been thinking a lot about the surgery too, which isn't until March or April, but it's just freaking me out a little. Okay, more than a little. The idea of being rearranged like that. Unsettling.
So now some of my personal projects and goals include establishing a little archive for my kids, in the event that the worst-case scenario happens. I'm thinking of making a video, writing down more things for them, and all that. In the best case scenario, I will be able to look back at all these things five, ten years from now and reflect on them. Life is a project, no?
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Date with Lucifer, Part 6
Chemo today. Had my oncologist check-up yesterday, and she gave me some more drugs for the excruciating joint pain that I get with this chemo. I told her I'd been eating some magic brownies, and she was fine with that. She said that we live in BC, after all. Hey, whatever works. Last time I had chemo, I had an immediate allergic reaction to the Docetaxel drip--I got really hot right away and had chest pains. So they stopped the drip and pumped me full of steroids and Benedryl via IV. Then they started the drip again. So this time, I'll get premedicated with the stuff to prevent the same reaction.
I gather from my nurse and doc that what I experienced with the last chemo is only going to get worse, as the effects are cumulative. But the good news is that after this chemo, I only have 2 more! I should be finished with chemo in the second week of January.
Then comes the radiation. We met with the radiation oncologist on Monday, and it was explained to us that the benefits of radiation are good and proven, that the chances of secondary cancer is less than 1%. So starting at the end of January, I will go in every day for five and a half weeks to get my radiation. I was told that it's like going out in the sun, that I will tan on the radiated area. Folks, I don't tan--I burn, like within ten minutes of being in the sun--with 50 SPF sunscreen. But if I get bad skin irritations, they will, of course, give me yet another prescription.
This morning, before I go in for my chemo this afternoon, I'm going to do the whole home spa thing. Long hot bath, good reading (I'm reading Inventing Victor, which is a collection of short stories by my friend Lisa's friend, Jennifer--and it's great!), sitting in my new massage cushion (DH bought me a new wonderful massage cushion yesterday at Costco, which has a rolling function, a shiatsu function, and a heat option!). I'm hoping that after chemo, I won't be too wiped out to go to the end of the term Creative Writing party on campus. I haven't seen a lot of my creative writing cohort in a while.
I want to write about all the fun stuff that's been happening in the past two weeks and try to forget all the crappiness (since that will be soon revisited anyway). Lisa and Vicki's visit was a godsend, if only a little too short for my taste! It was so wonderful to hang out with my best friend from home and her mom, and take them to all my favorite restaurants and places in Vancouver. Luckily, the weather wasn't shitty the entire time, as we were blessed with some wonderful sun. I think they really enjoyed it, and I hope they come back soon. When I'm not a lazy ass, I will download some of the pictures and post them.
Then we had two wonderful events for the book I edited that came out of the workshop that I taught back in February and March. The book is called Eating Stories: A Chinese and Aboriginal Potluck. I went on CBC on Friday morning to talk about it, then three of the authors went on CBC on Sunday morning for an interview, and other authors and folks are going to appear on radio, tv, and in print about it. People seem really excited about it! So I celebrated my birthday at our launch on Sunday, with song and cake and flowers (thanks, everyone!). And then we had dinner with DH's folks and sister and her family (before the launch we went out to brunch with DH's parents at Cafe Pacifica in the Pan Pacific Hotel). Then DH and I went to see Beowulf on 3D Imax (which would have totally blown chunks if not for the impressive 3D effects). It was a great day!
Last night, our pals Michael, Anne, Debora, and Lynda brought over a fantastic dinner (sushi from Hiroshi's, noodles that Michael made, and salted cod that Debora made), and frozen soups. We had great conversations, enjoyed the food, and it was just so great to see my pals.
But the best thing that happened in the last few weeks was when we were at our family doctor last week, getting our flu shots. While we were waiting for her to come into the exam room, Chloe grabbed my head and pulled it to her ear and said, "Mama, I can hear the ocean. I can hear whales." Granted, it's like she's saying I'm empty-headed, but it was wonderfully poetic to me.
I gather from my nurse and doc that what I experienced with the last chemo is only going to get worse, as the effects are cumulative. But the good news is that after this chemo, I only have 2 more! I should be finished with chemo in the second week of January.
Then comes the radiation. We met with the radiation oncologist on Monday, and it was explained to us that the benefits of radiation are good and proven, that the chances of secondary cancer is less than 1%. So starting at the end of January, I will go in every day for five and a half weeks to get my radiation. I was told that it's like going out in the sun, that I will tan on the radiated area. Folks, I don't tan--I burn, like within ten minutes of being in the sun--with 50 SPF sunscreen. But if I get bad skin irritations, they will, of course, give me yet another prescription.
This morning, before I go in for my chemo this afternoon, I'm going to do the whole home spa thing. Long hot bath, good reading (I'm reading Inventing Victor, which is a collection of short stories by my friend Lisa's friend, Jennifer--and it's great!), sitting in my new massage cushion (DH bought me a new wonderful massage cushion yesterday at Costco, which has a rolling function, a shiatsu function, and a heat option!). I'm hoping that after chemo, I won't be too wiped out to go to the end of the term Creative Writing party on campus. I haven't seen a lot of my creative writing cohort in a while.
I want to write about all the fun stuff that's been happening in the past two weeks and try to forget all the crappiness (since that will be soon revisited anyway). Lisa and Vicki's visit was a godsend, if only a little too short for my taste! It was so wonderful to hang out with my best friend from home and her mom, and take them to all my favorite restaurants and places in Vancouver. Luckily, the weather wasn't shitty the entire time, as we were blessed with some wonderful sun. I think they really enjoyed it, and I hope they come back soon. When I'm not a lazy ass, I will download some of the pictures and post them.
Then we had two wonderful events for the book I edited that came out of the workshop that I taught back in February and March. The book is called Eating Stories: A Chinese and Aboriginal Potluck. I went on CBC on Friday morning to talk about it, then three of the authors went on CBC on Sunday morning for an interview, and other authors and folks are going to appear on radio, tv, and in print about it. People seem really excited about it! So I celebrated my birthday at our launch on Sunday, with song and cake and flowers (thanks, everyone!). And then we had dinner with DH's folks and sister and her family (before the launch we went out to brunch with DH's parents at Cafe Pacifica in the Pan Pacific Hotel). Then DH and I went to see Beowulf on 3D Imax (which would have totally blown chunks if not for the impressive 3D effects). It was a great day!
Last night, our pals Michael, Anne, Debora, and Lynda brought over a fantastic dinner (sushi from Hiroshi's, noodles that Michael made, and salted cod that Debora made), and frozen soups. We had great conversations, enjoyed the food, and it was just so great to see my pals.
But the best thing that happened in the last few weeks was when we were at our family doctor last week, getting our flu shots. While we were waiting for her to come into the exam room, Chloe grabbed my head and pulled it to her ear and said, "Mama, I can hear the ocean. I can hear whales." Granted, it's like she's saying I'm empty-headed, but it was wonderfully poetic to me.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Happy Freakin' Birthday to Me
I'm 32 today. I'd like to thank and congratulate my mother for giving birth to me 32 years ago. No one ever remembers their mothers on their birthday, but yeah, folks, your momma's the one who went through the pain of bringing you into this world. I was a c-section baby, so for the longest time, I thought all babies were cut out of their mother's stomachs. The doctor even cut my face on my way out, so I have a battle scar from birth.
Who knew that on my 32nd birthday, I'd feel so old and creaky and be bald? But I've got the cutest, sweetest kiddins on the planet, a caring, loving hubby, awesome friends, and a colorful family. The best presents ever.
Who knew that on my 32nd birthday, I'd feel so old and creaky and be bald? But I've got the cutest, sweetest kiddins on the planet, a caring, loving hubby, awesome friends, and a colorful family. The best presents ever.
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