This afternoon, J treated me to a performance of "The Wizard of Oz" at the local playhouse. It was absolutely spendous! The 12-year old who played Dorothy was brilliant---what a set of pipes!---the rest of the cast was also very, very good, and I was completely amazed by the projected backdrops and the f/x. It was a sold-out show, and with good
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However, shitty times and sick stuff followed me, too. I was worried about my birth marks, right? Turned out, I was right - I NEED one to be removed as it is dysplastic and looks like the melanoma is in the brewing in it. LOVE that, very much... NOT!!!! Sorry, sorry... You did not need this, did you? Gah, bad me.
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I'm glad you're able to get your marks treated. I'm sorry they need to be done, but hey, at least it's getting done.
You're good. Shit happens. Not your fault. The trick is to keep breathing.
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I love that Garbage song, btw.
I am just so bloody wired about this all, that I forgot Ian`s upcoming birthday completely - in this case THANK goodness for Facebook and its birthday alert system!
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You're the one who turned me on to Garbage in the first place, you know.
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I am like... absent-minded and then SO greatful if something jogs my memory.
*grin* Yay for corruption!!
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