Aardvark Art Glass

I ambushed my brother with the camera when he made a rare appearance at our house last night. Mike is great. He’s a mechanic who’s dealership did not close during the big GM sweep. He’s a truly useful and sought-after human being. Anyway, his job is less fun than mine but work is a lot more regular. I don’t think he will ever outgrow the urge to give the camera the finger when he’s having his picture taken. Lovable Mike. Oh, and he did know the guy who shot his television. Funny thing: I only listen to first sentences in news reports so I didn’t realize there was a 15 hour stand off between police and the individual. That is news.

Anyhoozle, the whole reason I’m documenting my baldness and my brother’s presence in our house is because I wanted to show off the brain slug headbands I bought on Etsy. So quit looking at my head and look at the brain slug. They come from the House of Pook. Here’s one now. The slugs are crocheted and pretty rigid and the band fits well on your head. Make a great New Year’s hat. Frankly, Futurama fan or not, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want one of  these. I bought three for the store or for surprise gift-giving. I haven’t decided which yet. So that’s my holiday gift pick so far. Go get one-that Nikki is a nice gal.

that Rod Blagojvich is promoting pistachios on TV? I Googled it to make sure because I’ve had instances recently when I’ve confused dreams with television. I’ve been dreaming like crazy lately but my dreams have been very mundane. The only conversation worthy dream I had was about a man carrying a football with a hole in it that he was using for a toilet. According to Don, that was something we saw on TV, though, neither of us can remember where we saw it. That was disappointing. Anyway, Blagojvich along with Wee Man, Snookie and Levi Johnson really are spokes persons for a pistachio company. Personalities not withstanding, I think I’m for the outside-the-box thinking. Anything is better than a diamond commercial this time of year.

On Wednesday I went to the store to await my fire re-inspection at the shop. There are issues with how my display cases are plugged in. The cords are in a spot where people can step on them, is the problem. It’s a legit complaint that gets noticed once every 5 years or so and then not again for a while. I bought a new power strip with a long cord that could weave circuitously along a harmless, traffic-free path and plug right into the wall like it’s supposed to, but then I discovered the wall outlet is not grounded so I can’t use it. It was at that moment that my interest in solving this issue ended and my interest in avoiding the fire inspector began. I remember it like it was last month. Then on Tuesday, the fire inspector called me at home wondering where I was. That’s something that has never happened to me, or, as far as I know, any other human being before. It’s not like I was actively hiding–I was just going home early some days. ANYWAY, long story short, I think because I am hairless and pitiful now I got off with a much easier fix than having a new outlet put in. All I have to do is put a guard over the  cord. Thank you, nice fire inspector! I’m glad we resolved this.

Well, this week, my bloods looked better than they did after the first round of chemo but I had nose bleeds and a weird rash on my head. I ate a bunch of smoked oysters and liverwurst (they have iron) and my nose is completely healed now. My head is better too. Coincidence? Also this week I drank a bottle of wine with Bob Foster and painted a giant portrait from a photo of late hedgehog Marty Mart Mart.

It’s not done yet. Any of those things could have helped my nose but it was probably the iron and the sleeping. Sleeping is fun. And drinking wine with Bob Foster helps the blues. Here is a picture of Bob Foster:

He’s a jaunty fellow. In other news, a few days ago I heard that a man in Black Earth, WI shot his television set after becoming upset by Bristol Palin advancing to the next round of Dancing With the Stars. For a second I thought that man was my brother. It totally crossed my mind as he lives in Black Earth and is heavily armed. But he would never be that emotionally invested in such a show, nor would he be that careless with a firearm. I bet he knows the guy who did it though–it’s a small town. I’ll ask him at Thanksgiving.

If  you guessed the lizard-shape, you are right.

I’m bald now.  So that’s news. The hedgehog does not like my wig and the lizard does not like my hats. The lizard seems indifferent to the wig as does the hedgehog to the hats.  I have not tried wearing both at the same time but I intend to do so soon.

Yawn. I’m tired this week. Food is tasting bland and that’s making me think that now might be a good time to eat something that’s really, really gross just to see if I can taste it. Just a thought. If I think of something else, I’ll let you know. My brain is not feeling particularly snappy right now. It wants some Benadryl and cake.

I friggin’ finally found a recharging cord for my camera. I have three but I could only find the one that didn’t work. Then I ordered one from Ebay and that one didn’t work. I finally applied myself last night and found one under a bunch of stuff in the living room. Yay! I haven’t applied myself in a while. I’m glad it paid off.

So I’m working on this project that is just for me. It’s kind of a subjunctive rendering of breast cancer related things. The first one that I made was a tumor:

Happy tumor holds the drug hose that goes into my port. He wants to help, now. There’s something about the concept of having a tumor outside of your body that everyone can enjoy much more than when the tumor is in you. Also, when people ask “What’s that?”, you can say “It’s my tumor” and they think it’s really funny. Sometimes. Other times, a pregnant pause occurs in the conversation. People at the clinic think it’s a riot. They’re the ones who count.

Another thing I like to say is “I have a yeast infection in my pocket.”

Because, again, a yeast infection in the pocket is better than yeast infections migrating around your body because they made you take a round of penicillin before surgery. I had them in my incisions, particularly the armpit one. Say, that reminds me, you guys should never let people dig around in your armpit area unless they have a really good reason to do so. The armpit is a sensitive portal to mysterious complications. Keep your arm down so people can’t get at it.

I have more beads to show but I have to try to get some work done today. I have a little jewelry show of the open house persuasion tomorrow. Never tried one of those. Hope it works.

Well, I made more Neutrophils this week. I’m at 978 now. It’s still low but I feel somewhat less afraid that I ‘m going to accidentally come into contact with some germ that is going to kill me. I don’t know at what point in life I began considering my own mortality but, whenever that was, I’ve long believed that my death would be of an accidental nature–either by some stupid thing I do or a failure to understand and follow simple instructions. Or simply being distracted and not getting out of the way in time. Chemo feeds into that fear of the accidental 1000 percent by compromising your immune system which is the one thing that has your back throughout life. My immune system was so mighty. Together we used spoons that dropped on the floor of a Dairy Queen and ate things without getting a second opinion on how they smelled. Want a drink of my beer? Sure! You don’t appear to have any open sores or anything. How carefree those times were.

So , last week’s advice from the nurse about avoiding raw fruit (because of bacteria that’s in uncooked things) went heeded for the most part. Except for bananas. I have this chip in my brain about bananas. I know it isn’t true but no one is going to talk me out of it. I think that with the thick peel and all bananas are sterile. Plus, once it’s peeled, you’re the only one who breathes on or even looks at it before it’s eaten. Cathy’s raw fruit rule is if you can carry the fruit in your purse for a day and the skin is tough enough that the hull does not get breeched and also you can peel it and eat the fruit without your germy fingers touching it or anyone else looking at it, then it’s ok to eat it when your Neotrophils are low. Suck on that.

What other advice do I have for you, as I’m such a font of useful information today? Oh yeah-I finally got my sinus condition under control and my life has improved immeasurably. Taxotare, one of the chemo drugs is extremely irritating to your sinuses–possibly because of the nose hair thing and possibly because it’s poison. Anyway, I got some saline spray and some Benadryl and the irritation went away. Should have done that two weeks ago but it felt so weird I didn’t think anything OTC would help. I’m going to try to make beads today, even, now that I’m not sneezing. I need to make red and white blood cells for a project.