Awww, man!

George Carlin died yesterday of heart failure at age 71. I remember sitting on our old green velvet couch listening to his comedy routine on tape as a teeny kid, even though I had NO idea what he was talking about. I remember asking Mom if I could listen to the tape "with the bad words."

I hate it when a part of my childhood dies. It reminds me that I'm closer to death, too, and I'm not particularly LOOKING FORWARD to the end (although you might think I am to listen to my bitching and whining sometimes.) Actually, we've had a few lessons about death recently. A few days ago, a possum got hit by a car on the other side of our block. We've walked by each day and watched how it changes. Yesterday the maggots came. I explained about the flies and how the possum made a good dinner for the fly babies. We also regularly "rescue" dead chicks who have fallen or been pushed from their nests. We have a special spot under a bush where we put them. Zoe's been very interested to see that they slowly (or not so slowly) disappear. The sweet thing is that she likes to say a blessing over the things she finds. She asks God to take care of them. I know it might not be a popular thing to do to some, but it can't hurt.

So yeah--George Carlin is dead. And Richard Pryor died awhile ago. The way I see it, Neil Diamond should watch his step.

(Oy, what GUILT that last statement dredged up! I say it hoping that Mr. Diamond is hale and hearty and NOWHERE near death! Go, Neil!)

Happy doggie!

Taken on the banks of the Colorado River the day before his surgery. (While I was focusing my camera on Moe, Zoe was frolicking IN the Colorado River, and I was paying NO ATTENTION! My odyssey as a mother continues. . .) However, both are fine, and even better, both are currently healthy, and I'm praying it stays that way. Moe is on a long-term non-steroidal anti-inflammatory, and will need quarterly urinalyses and twice-yearly ultrasounds for the rest of forever, but that's fine with me!

Here's the fun news right now. Zach and I have TENTATIVELY decided to send in some photos of the kid to a local talent agency, for a few reasons. One, she looked at me the other day, and with the utmost seriousness said, "Mommy, I want to be on TV." Two, if I don't hear the phrase, "Look at me!" at least 20 times in a day, it isn't a normal day. The girl lives for the spotlight, and I live in dire fear that that need will lead her in unsavory directions. Better she be guided in her need to be the center of attention than let her forge her own way. We have agreed that it would never interfere with school, though.

Also, David Sedaris is going to be at Book People (YES! RIGHT HERE IN TOWN!) this coming Thursday, and I am blowing off school to be there. I have to be one of the first 500 to be able to have the privilege of standing in line for several hours for his autograph, but damned if I won't do it! Now all I have to do is find someone to watch the kid. . .

Speaking of whom:

Clear margins and drag queens

FINALLY got the pathology back on Moe--it was indeed transitional cell carcinoma, BUT, the margins of the excised lesion were clear--we are cancer-free! There's a follow-up exam on Tuesday with the oncologist, and I don't know if there will be a recommendation for chemo or not, but I'm feeling very much relieved. Thanks for all your thoughts, phone calls and cards! Very sweet, all you people.

So tonight Zach and I are going with some friends to an Eddie Izzard show. http://www.eddieizzard.com/ My thought is to go with a sort of drag queen look, myself, and I'll tell you, that's not as easy as one might think. Especially since I'm female. But I did manage to find a pair of hot pink, patent leather(ette) pumps with an ankle strap. If THAT isn't drag queen, ain't nothin is. I'm almost 100% sure my friend Dana will take a million pictures. I'll post one at some point, if I don't end up looking like a clown instead of a queen.

Yay, Moe!

Cleanliness (actually, the lack thereof)

If I could subtitle this entry, it'd be:

"Crust and bodily functions."

Today is Tuesday. Zoe's last bath was Friday night. On Saturday, she spent the whole day outdoors sweating. Sunday night and Monday night, she was out late and didn't get home at a decent time for a bath. Today, I am halfway ashamed of being seen with her.

First, on Sunday, she used a brown, what is turning out to be semi-permanent marker to draw lines and large blotches on her legs and "paint" her toenails. Last night, she had some chocolate pie and today still has some chocolate remnants on her cheek and forehead. (I'm not certain how she did that, either.) Today, she crawled around on the floor at Half Price Books, making her knees brown, and then when we went to an unnamed place*, she got chalk dust all over her hands and clothes. (*the purpose of this place may or may not have something to do with a possible upcoming "holiday" during which gifts are given to a parent.) She has been sweating in the Central Texas heat the whole time. And today, after sitting on my lap, there was a pointedly unpleasant aroma when she arose and her butt wafted past my nose.

What I wanted to do: Hold her down, spray her gently with a firehose, scrub her with lye, and and hang her on the line to dry. What I did: proposed a spa day, wherein she was bathed with fragrant soaps, her hair washed and conditioned, her skin clarified and toned with a masque, her fingernails and toenails done, a massage given with berry-scented lotion, her hair done, and a spritz of perfume given, followed by lovely clean clothes. So we went to the beauty supply place nearby, bought some nail polish (clear with gold flecks,) stick-on jewels for her nails, berry-scented lotion, and spray-on, hot pink hair highlighter. On the way home, she fell asleep, so she is now in her bedroom contaminating her sheets.

Moe is back at the doctor today, but only for a check. Today was supposed to be the day we maybe heard back on the pathology, but so far, nothing. I'm thinking maybe when the doctor calls, we'll know more. He has had a few issues in the past few days, but nothing horrific. There was blood and a few clots in his urine, and a bit of blood on his first two poops after he got home. The scar on his belly pulls his winkie off to one side just a tiny bit, so he pees slightly to the right, and very often on his right rear foot. He has had two episodes of tinkling in the house, but I think this has more to do with a small bladder than anything else. He is also not particularly happy to go out into the backyard to do his business and now prefers the front. However, he is also happy to simply squat on the front porch. It's charming. I am hope-hope-hoping that the pathology comes back benign, since he seems pretty full of energy and happy right now. Keep him in your thoughts, still.

Talked my doctor into giving me an EKG yesterday because I worry that my heart races, and it came back normal. I'm also scheduled for an ultrasound of my liver and gallbladder this Friday, as that seems to be where I have pains quite often. Finally, he looked in my ear and found that I have fluid built up somewhere in there, which explains why I can hear my heart beating in my right ear, and keep feeling dizzy. (Before yesterday, I suspected the heartbeat in my ear thing was the thinning of an important artery that was combining with increased cranial pressure to soon produce an aneurysm that would shoot my brains out my right ear.) Fortunately, I was wrong.