after the last week of harrowing fun, i went to the breast surgeon today up in chevy chase and now have lovely ink drawings all over my boob. i feel like a work of art. she doesn't think definitively that it is anything bad, but she isn't sure, so between my family history and everything else, she would rather be safe. so, she is sending me for a rush-rush ultrasound on wednesday, after which she will decide whether i need to have a biopsy or not. (hopefully not, of course.) in addition to what i had found, she actually found a lump i didn't find, which was a little surreal. since a) thursday is july 4 and so nothing will happen then, and b) i can't do anything about it next week, i am not sure what the rush is about, but i suppose if i get good news from the ultrasound, then i will be pretty darn pleased.

and that is what i know.

today, i meet the surgeon in chevy chase to find out what next happens to the lovely lump/mass thingy i have in my breast.

(ok, you idiots out there, uh huhh huh, she said breast.)

i am really, really hoping that she meets me, takes a look, maybe even an ultrasound, and then says “get the hell outta my office.”

apologies to everyone, everywhere. i am just not very chatty at the moment. hopefully, later, i will have some happy news to report.

our daughter loves the song “i wanna be a lifeguard.” we have heard it twice already, and i am afraid this could continue all afternoon if i let it. she is dancing around the family room, pretending to swim and shake her groove thang. this, and the dead milkmen's “punk rock girl.” what a combo.

i think i should get this on film at some point. for future blackmailing purposes, of course 😉

homicide bomber baby.

i decided that tonight, i would have a glass of wine. a nice shiraz cabernet. not a super-duper one like el karlo, connoiseur of vino, AKA would purchase perhaps, but a yummy aussie drink anyway. if nothing else, it will scare any possible free radicals roaming about in my body. hopefully, i scared them shitless already and they decided not to take up housekeeping in my body.

(btw, that was in no way, shape, or form a knock on my buddy karly-warly. he is like a pusher when it comes to wine, but he certainly inspires one to try new and exciting bottles. who loves ya, babe 😉

now, i think i will self-medicate with some chocolate.

who needs valium? i've got yummy hersheys and guittard 😉

but i can see it from here.

Bush to Be Sedated for Colonoscopy

yes, but how will we know the difference?

John Entwistle died yesterday.

we saw 3/4 of the who back in 1996 when they performed “quadrophenia.” prior to that, we saw roger daltrey, s t r a i n i n g to hit a “razor line” at wolf trap. i never saw them all with keith moon, as i only got to see my first concert in 1980 (still the very best show ever, Brooooooce on The River tour, with a close second seeing Bruce front row, center, thanks to a charity auction, in 1999), so this is as close as i ever got to seeing the entire group together. my friend leifer got me completely hooked on the who when i was in high school. i still remember his altar to pete (which also became an altar to elvis costello, but that's another story.)

quadrophenia is one of my most favorite LPs. (you can tell i'm old; i still insist on calling albums LPs or records.) only an idiot (like my freshman year roommate) could not understand and appreciate pete townshend's total alienation and utter emotional bankuptcy in the work. (and when said roommate went with me to see the flic, she wouldn't talk to me for two days afterwards. no great loss.) this album is one of the few albums i put on when i want a really good wallow. joni mitchell is good for depression, but quadrophenia? a stark portrait of someone who really, really feels alone. it makes me realize that i surely do have a lot, in spite of what i sometimes might think.

anyway, seeing quadrophenia live was a trip. they trucked in real-life alleged pedophile gary glitter to be uncle ernie (how's that for type-casting?) and billy idol to be cousin kevin. each kept trying to upstage the other, which made for amusing yet sometimes sad moments. john was always so dignified, even when ancient roger's voice would crack or when pete was, well, glum old pete. i am merely glad that townshend hasn't tried to disney-fy this one like he did to Tommy. i thought the broadway version of Tommy was a travesty. all clean and pink and devoid of the scary, unpleasant, and basically sounding like Muzak had bought it and covered most of the album.

let's see: the who has lost its drummer and bass player. the beatles have lost their lead guitar and rhythm guitar. maybe we can put roger and pete together with paul and ringo (well, maybe ringo's son, zak, as he can actually play the drums and has toured with the who before…) just a thought. the aging be-whos.

damn. i better have some coffee soon.

…just ask my daughter.

i was on the phone with a dear friend who also is a former boss of mine from eons ago. he was calling me back, and we were talking about my imminent visit to a surgeon. literally appropos of nothing, my BC, all of 3.5 years old, leans into the phone and says, “mommy, you're a doofus.”

i think my friend is still laughing, hours later.

BC told me that she learned that word from “Arthur.” i think BC is no longer watching “Arthur.” not until i regain my pride back 😉

public TV. what a bunch of fucking doofuses.

or is it doofi?

i hate that expression, or Oprah-ism, if you'd like. but it happened to me today. i always liked the song “A Case of You,” but i somehow never full grasped its meaning. today, i did. i won't go any further into how it hit me, but i will print the lyrics for anyone who is interested. tori amos does a nice cover, but nothing beats the original. it is funny, it is sad, it even mentions Canada. you can't beat that with a stick, eh?

A CASE OF YOU
Joni Mitchell

Just before our love got lost you said,
“I am as constant as a northern star.”
And I said, “Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar.”
On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
With your face sketched on it twice
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
And I would still be on my feet
Oh I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time you told me, you said,
“Love is touching souls”
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
“Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed”
Oh but you are in my blood
You're my holy wine
You're so bitter, bitter and so sweet
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet