"Alopecia areata!"

I wonder what this post will be about.

Kath emailed me last week after reading one of my blog posts.  Subject was, "sunday-jus​t wondering about the missing half of your eyebrow".  It's good that she puts the day of the week in the subject line.

>Anyways, just reading your blog-yes, I laughed.  Loved the doll w/bangs-does resemble you a little.--maybe, more than a little.<

Isn't it wonderful that my Mother agreed that I looked like a creepy male doll?  Though, I guess it's better than what the bf compared me to this past weekend.  We were enjoying drinks in the sun and blotches started to form on my neck.  I asked, "Did I get blotchy on our first date?"  He said, "You think?  You looked like the Terminator." 

I don't know who is luckier.  Me, with such a fresh bf or, him with a blotchy, browless gf.

Now, I will move on to what everyone really wants to know. Yesterday was the BIG day.  My dermatologist appointment.  Dr. Burns entered the room and asked what I was there for.  I contemplated saying, "Guess!" to see if he could figure it out.  Instead, I pointed to my balding brow.  He rubbed his chin and stared at me. He then went through a series of questions:

"I see that you fell last year."

"Yes!" I said. "But that was St. Patrick's Day 2010."

"I see. Are you losing hair anywhere else?"

"No."

"Scalp, underarm, leg, all normal?"

"Yes."

I didn't tell him that I am a hairless wonder.  He would worry.

He asked if I had thyroid issues.  I told him I didn't, but peeps in my family have.  I also told him that my aunt lost her eyebrow once.  He asked if it grew back.  "I think so?" I replied.  He then used some microscopic tool with a light and dictated his findings to the nurse.  So scientific. "No hair outer part of eyebrow.  Hold on. I shouldn't say no hair.  There are a few.  Type sparse!"  He told me to pull my ponytail out and went through my scalp with his hands.  "You've got a lot of hair!" he said.  "On my head anyway." I replied.

When he was done looking, he told me he had a pretty firm diagnosis, but still wanted to test my thyroid.  "Alopecia areata!"  Dr. B. exclaimed.  I don't know why he was so excited.  After he said the words, I couldn't help but smirk.  I could tell he wanted to know why I had a smile on my face.  I said, "My boyfriend actually diagnosed me a month ago.  I'm not very happy that he's right."  The bf sent me a text last month telling me to look it up.  After I did, I told him I was going to be sick.  Don't Google image "alopecia areata".  You'll worry about a bitch.  Anyway.  Dr. B. said my eyebrow should grow back and to put cortisone cream on it.  Then he looked at me and said, "Questions."  I looked at him and waited for another interrogation.  He looked back.  It was then that I realized he said, "Questions?"  I didn't have any at the time.  Now I have a million.  My internet research after the fact made me tear up so I stopped looking and am just going to hope for the best.

Enough about that. 

As some of you may know, this is my fave time of the year.  The Lang Family Reunion.  The bf and I are headed to my sista's today to help prepare for the weekend.  CF is coming today as well.  She called me last night and asked what I was doing. "Watching Ghosts of Girlfriend's Past". I said. "Oh." she replied. CF was judging me.  I hope she enjoyed her Angela Lansbury fix last night. 

That's all for now.  Enjoy the long weekend bitches.  Maybe I will have an eyebrow by Tuesday.

Highway to Heaven

Before I start, I don't have anything specific to say. I am going to just ramble and see where this goes. Lucky you.

Here is Kath's mother's day card.  

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

On the inside it said, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY. FROM ME AND MY SISTER." 

Kath loved.  Speaking of Kath.  She doesn't email me as much.  I think she has gotten over the novelty of it. This old email made me laugh.

>okay, no one won powerball, 184 M-now why did the size of this font get smaller-i did nothing. guess what i am watching on tv-give up-highway to heaven-lent is coming up- wonder if i am going to give up dramas - thinking about diet soda.<


Every time I call, she is watching that damn program.  Kath is always quick to say, "Must you call me when I am watching the last five minutes of my show?"  I hope she's not waiting for new episodes.  It ended in 1989.  Here's a brief Highway to Heaven synopsis courtesy of Wikipedia.

"The series stars Michael Landon as Jonathan Smith, an angel sent down to earth "on probation", and his human companion Mark Gordon, played by Victor French. Jonathan and Mark are given "assignments" by "The Boss" (God) where they are required to use their humanity (and sometimes a little bit of "The Stuff") in order to help various troubled souls to overcome their problems."  

It sounds worse than Murder, She Wrote.  Kath and CF are co-founders of the Angela Lansbury fan club. They're obsessed with that show.  In 2011.  Sista and I used to stay home alone in the summer and watch trashy talk shows.  She was 12, I was eight.  The Jerry Springer Show, Maury,  The Sally Jesse Raphael Show (personal fave).  I didn't like Jerry so much, but whoever made it to the clicker first ruled the TV for the day.  I was out of luck if I spent two hours arranging the stuffed animals on my bed. (I had 186. Barbie dolls included.  And they were placed in the same spot daily.) We hated when Kath stayed home sick and were forced to endure her shows.  In the Heat of the Night, Perry Mason, and of course, Murder, She Wrote.  We didn't mind when at 3:00 Guiding Light came on.  Kath made sure to get us hooked on that show as infants.  It was the crystal meth of soap operas.  We both finally stopped watching in our late teens.

Speaking of stuffed animals. Kath recently asked if I wanted any of my old ones.  I am sure the bf would love, love, love if I had 200 stuffed animals on my bed. He often tells me how much he loves my decorative throw pillows.



I told Kath, "No. I have Herbie!" Herbie was the only stuffed animal that I slept with. Grace and Herbie gave him to me when I was five. What a creative name. He is a white teddy bear and required frequent washings. Every time Bill Lang put him through the spin cycle I told myself, "It's just a bath." Poor guy is buried in the back of my closet right now. He could use a bath. I'll let my dad know.

In other news. I have a date with CF tomorrow night. When she was sick she told me she needed a throat transplant. I called her dramatic, but I would have said the same. I couldn't hear music playing in my left ear this morning and assumed I lost all hearing in that ear. I need new headphones. Last week, I couldn't find my phone. I was convinced I had put it in the washing machine along with my laundry. In my head, I was already planning on when I would go to Verizon for a new one. Good thing I checked my purse. Back to date night. Today I told CF that I was excited for her to see my eyebrow (or, lack thereof) and she asked if I was looking for attention. I learn from the best.

That's all I've got bitches. My DVR awaits and I have a lot of Real Housewives to catch up on. And, I have to call Kath. Until next time

Where'd you get that giant?

I still have not found my eyebrow.  I've been penciling it in daily.  It is a task I dread.  Yesterday I had to draw it on in the gym bathroom in front of another person.  That was a blast. The bastard shows no signs of growing  back. I sometimes just part my hair all the way over to the right to try and hide it.  I wish I looked good with bangs.  I have photos of myself at the age of four with a bowl cut and bangs. I looked like the My Buddy doll.

I suppose it is better than looking like Webbie Debbie.

I finally called the dermatologist last week.  I kept getting transferred and had to tell three people the following, "Half of my eyebrow fell out.  It isn't growing back." Two of them asked me to repeat myself.  I go May 26th.  I learned that my aunt lost her entire eyebrow once.  It eventually grew back.  Now I am paranoid that the left one is thinning.  I look at old photos of myself with two full eyebrows and wish I hadn't taken them for granted.  I was at a restaurant recently and the waitress had gorgeous eyebrows.  I almost told her, but thought that might come off as creepy as I sat there with my Sharpie eyebrows.

Enough about that. 

I went home on Good Friday to see Gram.  As you all know, I don't have a car. Normally this isn't a problem, but sista, aka my driver, went to Italy. I asked Bichard if he could pick me up at the bus station that Friday afternoon and then take me to Gram's.  He said he would, even though he threatened to not show up.  I have been an ass enough times in our friendship to believe him since I would have deserved it.  Luckily, Phyllis was part of the equation so I was 70 percent sure he wouldn't leave me stranded.  He showed up. He has heard every Gram story and is one of many who has always wanted to meet Phyll.  We pulled into the parking lot and Richard said, "I don't know if I can do this.  I'm kind of nervous."  I said, "It's like meeting Gandhi." 

It was lunchtime when we walked in and Phyllis was eating with her pals Roberta and Henrietta.  Gram's other friend Phyllis (!) sat nearby.  I introduced Gram and the gals to my 6'5'' tall Egyptian friend.  She was so grateful that he drove me to visit her and told him so.  I said to Gram, "HE'S EGYPTIAN."  She said, "HE'S A GYPSY?"  After repeating myself several times, she finally understood.  "WERE YOU RAISED IN EGYPT?" she asked him.  He explained that he grew up in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, but that his dad grew up in Egypt.    I asked Henrietta if there were any activities planned for the day.  She told me they were dying eggs at 2:00.  Gram heard this, rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, great."  Richard was in stitches and told me my impressions of her were spot on.  He also told me he is going to visit her on his own.  He should.  They're both single. 

When she finished eating lunch, Gram said, "RICHARD, DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY ROOM?"  He said sure and began wheeling her out of the dining room.  As we left, Roberta beamed at us and said, "Merry Christmas!"  She is the cutest lady and turns 100 on October 23rd.  Gram told me so.  I am glad she knows her birthday. Anyway.  Gram doesn't have a roommate currently and she showed off her room and all the space she now has.  We chatted for a few, then it was time for Richard to go. Gram ordered me to give him more candy to "hold him over".  I obliged.  Richard and Phyllis said their goodbyes and after he left Gram told me he was a "very nice person."  She is 87 and does not always know what she is talking about.

After my tall friend left, Gram told me to take a nap.  This is something she says when she wants to take a nap herself.  She fell asleep in her chair and I sprawled out on her bed.  We dozed for 15 minutes.  When we awoke, we went out into the hallway and a neighbor of Gram's, an older gentleman, was milling about. Gram saw him and rolled her eyes.  He talks incessantly and doesn't make any sense.  This drives Phyllis crazy.  He passed us and said to Gram, "Are you my mother?"  Gram looked at me and said, "HE'S A PAIN IN MY ASS!"  After this, we ended up going to the activity room and dyed some eggs.  Phyllis enjoyed.  I did as well.  Kath came shortly after to pick me up and I told Gram I would be back the next morning.

Kath and I returned the following morning to visit with Phyll before I went back to Boston.  We sat with Gram in the front lobby and her friend Phyllis was sitting there as well.  Friend Phyllis told me I looked different than the prior day.  I asked if that was a good or bad thing.  She said, "Good!  But you didn't look bad yesterday!" she said.  I probably did a better job drawing my eyebrow that morning. Friend Phyllis then asked, "Where's your friend from yesterday?"  I told her he was at home.  She nodded and replied, "Where'd you get that giant?" This made Kath and I laugh. Friend Phyllis smiled.  I like her.

I will be seeing Phyllis this weekend and again Memorial Day weekend.  I am going to have the bf come with me for a lunchtime visit with Phyll over Memorial Day because I think he will get a kick out of it.  Speaking of.  Memorial Day weekend is just a few weeks away.  CF and I talked on the phone for almost three hours last night.  She filled me in on her recent cold and said, "Oh. I have a cough injury."  She told me she has been using hot pads to alleviate the pain.  When she was in 7-11 buying a water she realized that all of her hot pads had fallen to the ground.  CF looked at them scattered on the floor. And ran out.  I wish I had been there.  I forgot to tell her about my missing eyebrow.  I wish I had because she'll know what to do. 

That's all for now bitches.  Be extra nice to the Kath's in your life on Sunday.