Here's the deal: I can't really blog about anything political because I haven't really had the time to read, dissect, understand and synthesize it. I've obviously had the time to use a thesaurus, though. So no talking out my ass until I have some ability to defend what I'm saying. Unlike our friend Rush:
I can tell you that I'm registering Bambina for kindergarten today. It's one of those assessment things, where she goes with someone "to play" so they can see that she is a freakin' star! While I fill out paperwork. She is so ready to get to kindergarten. At least she thinks she is. Me? Sometimes I'm not so sure I'm ready for her to go. Other times, I feel like it can't get here soon enough for my liking. It's just one more of those milestones in life that you can't believe has arrived so soon.
Speaking of milestones, yesterday was our 4th Happy Adoption Day. We call it that because Bambina wants to call it that. She hates Gotcha Day because "I didn't get got!" So we went out to eat, got an ice cream cake, and decorated the house with Happy Adoption Day banners and stars. It helped that yesterday was also Purim, so the festivities just did not end till late into the night (by which I mean, for her, 8pm). The funny aspect of Happy Adoption Day is that she always picks St. Patrick's Day decorations for it, since they are always around on March 10th. So her Happy Adoption Day cake was white and green with shamrocks, and we both had on our springy shamrock headband thingies. She LOVED it! So did I.
In other news, I now donate blood on a monthly basis. After so many years of transfusions, I am iron-overloaded. Untreated, this can cause organ failure and other dire situations. The treatment options are as follows:
1. Exjade. Pills that make you excrete the iron. Can cause blindness and deafness.
2. Desferal. Subcutaneous infusion-daily--for 12 hours. Can cause blindness, deafness and dizziness.
3. Bloodletting. Donate a pint of blood (which is then thrown away) every month for about a year.
DUH! That's a no-brainer!! The issue is that I have to gain 3 pounds before March 23rd, my next appointment. I was 110 with clothes and a cast, so the lady was giving me the hairy eyeball and about to send me home. (As evidence that the trauma of being a fat kid stays with you your whole life, when the nurse responded, "I don't believe you; get on the scale" to my assertion that I was "about 113," I thought she was saying I was heavier than that! Nice.) Anyway, I CANNOT deal with another drug. So the weight must go on. Difficulty level: I have massive coronary-mimicking acid reflux from the pills, so eating has become a chore. Add that I still cannot eat fatty food or dairy because of the GVH, and you can see how I'm struggling to find calories. 1,000 extra pretzels a day? Kill me now.
With that, Bambina has awoken and I must dash. With any luck I'll have an opinion or two on Chas Freeman, the budget, Rush Limbaugh (oh wait, I already have an opinion on that) and John McCain's attempt to out-Newt Newt. Old and cranky is as old and cranky does.