Alright, so I am now growing this very dark, low hairline, that dad says makes me look like Eddie Munster (but mum thinks it makes me look more like Curious George).
And my eyebrows are coming in darkdarkdark, which gives me hope that my hair will grow back black. Or, at the very least, dark brown like my dad's was before he shaved it.
My hair was very thick and BLACK when I was born, but it lightened considerably, and I am rather disappointed.

Oh, and I saw Monty Python and the Holy Grail! I can see why that movie has such an ENOURMOUS cult following, but really, I kind of like And Now for Something Completely Different better.

Okay, I am typing in hospital gloves and they are making my hands very sweaty and they are also waaaay too big for me so I can not see the keys sometimes and that is annoying.

Where can I buy a few Commas?

And now I am back from Duke, and my Amazing Grandmother has sterilized EV-ER-Y THING. There is not a surface in this house that has not known the touch of a Lysol wipe.
Even the mouse has been sterilized. The keyboard was sterilized, while I was in the middle of writing a long email to one of my friends, and I think it was deleted.

No, actually I am positive it was deleted.

Being immuno-compromised is not in any way fun.

(On the plus side, this is the home keyboard and the home computer, and these keys do not stick or drive me completely BONKERS.)

...And now thanks to dad's pop-up blocker and sticky keyboard, I don't know if leterary is spelled with one or two t's! Just don't read that last post. In the long run, it will most likely do you no good and be hazardous to your health in the meantime.

And really, I don't see what dad's sticky keyboard has to do with it, except that the space bar sticking is really annoying me.

Well, what can I say? Chemo pretty much sucks. I know that isn't very literary of me, but my food intake and urine ouput are being monitered at the moment, and I am sorrry to gross you out, but I don't have time to waste being literary.

So, yeah...

Doing...okaaay.

I just had my dressing ripped off by one of my many nurses. At around 11, my own stem cells wll be implanted into my body, from whence they were harvested painstakigly several months previously. How is your morning going?

There, now you can't say that wasn't literary.

Ways I Am Like a Pregnant Woman:

1. Cravings.
2. Morning Sickness.
3. This nausea medication for pregnant women to prevent morning sickness.
4. Pregnancy tests with my blood (like I am so going to run out and have promiscuous sex in the middle of my cancer treatments, people).
5. An Ultrasound (but don't worry, it was one of my heart, so that's okay).

By brother is OUT IN THE WOODS AGAIN, so my other brother and my dad are out looking for him. At night. After Five. In the woods.
Not only did my darling go out without a walkie-talkie again, not only has he been out since lunch, but he also left his water bottle.
Is my brother a genius or what?

Well, okay, not completely irredeemable.
The photographer I told you about took a bunch of pictures of me for the Joan of Ark thing, and he and his wife were really nice, and the fact that he bought me a box of Godiva that I was FORBIDDEN to share more than once didn't hurt, either.

I have learned that professional photographers are crazy, though, just like professional actors. They all share a love of the human form, then ignore it completely when it's time to eat.

And did you know that you can cook Sushi in a dishwasher? You wrap the Sushi in question in foil so it doesn't get soggy, put on the top wrack of a loaded dishwasher, start it, and Voila! For instant Japanese, just add soapy water!

This day has rendered itself completely irredeemable.

So this place called Yanceyville (I think that's how you spell it) is about, oh, an hour and a half from where I live. It's kind of fun, if you have a reason for being there, but there's basically nothing. They have a couple schools, a Fire Department or two, a couple farms, and innumerable houses.
It's in the middle of nowhere, really.

So we know these people with a farm and stuff, and they are having their annual Plow Day, with pony rides, looks at farm equipment and cows (I love cows! I had a cow birthday once!), Free Food, and bunches of people.

We get there.

It is canceled.

Not really, just rain-checked, but still.

The weather is PERFECT, by the way.

They aren't even freaking outside. They won't even answer the freaking phone.
GOD.
One and a half hours. With current gas prices.

So then, just to see if there was any way to make our day just a tiny bit WORSE, we stop in at Ben and Jerry's, because we all need something sweet after such a horrendous morning (it isn't yet 11, and already the day sucks eggs).

Get this, though--B&J's doesn't open till noon.

May I ask what kind of joint does not open till noon? What sadistic creep dictated that Ben and Jerry's would not open till noon?! People need sustenance before then! I sure do, anyway.

So then we got to our downtown farmer's market to see if the Garlic people are there so we can get Chipolate Dip, and--surprise, surprise--the Garlic people have already packed up and left.

I would ask some one to shoot me, but my parents are paying waaaaaaay to much for doctors and stuff for me to die...