I got my hair cut and re-dyed whimsical for that coffee shop weirdo with the prostate cancer story. That very same day I had my nose hair waxed (yes, weird! weird! and very weird to experience - you can make air holes in the wax before it hardens and covers your nose holes. Let me know if you want more description) for the first time. Weird especially when she explained that she had waxed her own nose hairs before attending a nose-hair waxing conference though she neglected to get all the blue wax out of her nose. Blue wax stuffed up inside a nose probably looks like as bad as you can imagine. Sexy! She said after a few hours another nose hair waxing conference attendee finally mentioned the "thing in your nose" to her. How to make friends and influence people.
I bought a new used car but have not picked it up yet.
I am looking for a renter for my downstairs apartment. It's approximately 800 sq ft and has lovely canyon views, a private entrance and deck. Beautiful, peaceful, serene. 420 friendly!
I petted my pain in the butt cat.
I met a friend for drinks and dinner. We had a long discussion. We both teared up. We drank too much.
I talked with my mom through ichat. She has been sick. She wants me to buy a bed for the extra bedroom but I keep forgetting to ask her what kind of bed? I finally asked her today.
I think I may be hoarder though so far there are only a few piles. I'm not exactly sure that the piles of hoarded things belong to me though so I'm not going to try out for any reality hoarding show yet.
Through an organization with which I volunteer I met a woman diagnosed with renal cancer. No one can wave a magic wand. There's no secret password on how to get through this transition from our perception of healthy to not so healthy. I can't talk her out of her suffering (much like I try to do to myself). A cancer patient must be sad; it's the law. When the sadness subsides, you have to get back to life or death, depending.
I had an upper GI. I was in the waiting room with a bunch of old people. I am at that age where I think I'm the only young-ish person in the waiting room, looking around and seeing all those chin whiskers, gray hairs, bald heads, housecoats, sweat pants and slippers (and then seeing myself in the mirror wearing, chin whiskers, gray hairs, housecoats, slippers). Everyone in the waiting room is thinking the exact same thing I'm thinking - they are the youngest person in the waiting room -- except for my former bf's neighbor, Bud, who was waiting in the waiting room looking befuddled. He's mid to late 80s now. He told the technician he was there because his doctor says he has "memory problems." I decided not to say anything to Bud and remind him that we once knew each other and talked usually weekly. A discussion with me might have tested his memory. But I'm thinking his memory problems might not be all that bad if he remembered to go to the doctor.