I have no idea what Ima blog about today. I thought I might just ramble. That should be, you know, utterly painful and boring for all of us.
My friend Paula called me last night. She is my friend from Seattle who had the {cancer}. I whispered it for us so it wouldn't get us. Anyway she is still doing fine, other than she called to complain about a work thing and I hope she isn't gonna get mad at me that I just announced that on this hugely popular blog with tens of readers.
It's been over a year now since she had her hooty-hoot lobbed off (official medical term) and the chemo and all that, and she's had to take this pill ever since to ward off future attacks and it's called something. See. Again I can't think of it. I want to call it Tamiflu but obviously that isn't it.
Last night I couldn't think of it, either and I said, "How are you doing with that pill you have to take every day? Sine-Aid or whatever?"
I don't know what the hell is wrong with Paula that she didn't know what I meant. GOD, she's so SLOW. "I don't HAVE allergies," she said.
Tamoxifen. That's what it is. It sounds just like Sine-Aid. Does anyone who doesn't go in a time machine to 1979 actually TAKE Sine-Aid anymore? And now I will be sued by the makers of Sine-Aid because this blog is hugely popular and read by 16 people. Unless it's a Saturday, in which case it's read by .16 people.
Anyway, the answer to the question was it's a nonissue for her. She does great with Tamiflu.
I used to live with Paula, back when I, too, lived in Seattle where it rained and THIS HAIR had to deal with that, and Paula insisted on taping reruns of Hart to Hart every day. Somehow we remained friends despite this.
In other news, Miss Doxie invited me to her Halloween party this weekend, bringing the grand total of parties I have been asked to up to four. One year this other couple Marvin and I were friends with and -- you know, I don't know how Ima structure this sentence. I'm trying to say the four of us came up with a costume idea. There.
We thought it'd be HILARIOUS to dress up as Abba. Is it ABBA or Abba? The other woman in our foursome had reddish hair, so she could be the less-attractive Abba singer and I got to be the hot blonde, even though in real life this woman was totally gorgeous and it probably would have been humiliating for me to go to a party pretending to be the hot blonde from ABBA. Or Abba.
Agneta? Isn't that the hot blonde's name? See, if I weren't rambling I'd be looking all this stuff up and you wouldn't have to struggle with me through the Abba/ABBA/Agneta thing.
The POINT is, not one person invited ANY of us to a Halloween party. Isn't that sad? And the other couple were a popular duo! I don't know what was up. Now here I am a swinging Larry-on-Three's-Company-Wilona-from-Good-Times-Thelma-Lou-from-Andy-Griffith gal and I have parties up my hoo-hah. Okay, so Thelma Lou was always with Barney. She COULD have been single if she wanted to be.
Can't go to Miss Doxie's, though. Because it's in effing Atlanta. Why doesn't someone dress up in a June costume and crash it?
I guess I must go get dressed and attend work. Tonight I am doing beginner yoga with the receptionist. She was going to be the only one attending the class, so I told her I'd go even though I am not a beginner, and I'm afraid I sent her an email that read, "You are not alone, as Michael Jackson would say." Fortunately the receptionist is used to bizarre emails from me. Once she sent a company-wide email about how a large beehive had been seen by one of the side doors, so avoid that door, and I wrote her back and told her not to drone on.
God, I love me.
Okay, must go. It has been fun nonsensically talking to you like a homeless person on a bench.
