My shoulder itches like you wouldn't believe. Having had the bandage removed earlier today, and scratching around the damned scar-in-the-making for a bit, I thought it would be fine. Now, ANYTHING touching it and moving along it is driving me nuts.

Worse, my bra strap sits squarely over it.

So, I gave up this evening, when working, and decided to go topless. Yes, the only thing that would make this better for Kris, who is sitting next to me in the office, would probably be a beer.

After I removed my shirt, I figured, of course the best place for it was the dog. She disagreed, but not before I was entertained by it. Yes, the only reason to have a dog: to entertain you.

So, what is it about people that when times are tough, they think it's okay to just raise taxes? I mean, times are tough, so you want everyone else to pay for your problems? No, fuck off. I voted no on all your damned, stupid-ass propositions. You can go suck it.

I went to have my stitches removed today. I cannot express how relieved I am to have them out. Not being able to scrub my back means, of course, I want nothing other than to scrub the hell out of my back, possibly to the point of redness. Of course, the redness won't compare to the redness around the spot where it's been continually covered for the last two weeks.

I am thankful I am not allergic to latex at this moment.

I am also surprised at how much of my hair managed to wiggle under the bandage. Damn hair, gets everywhere. Everywhere faster than you can imagine.

Instead of the doctor, the nurse practitioner pulled out my stitches, with the doctor coming in to inspect the wound. I had to convince her to take off another spot, the one I had commented on at the previous surgery.

She did, looked at it, and started, "You have three options. We can ..." She then paused, looked up at me, and said, "You want it biopsied."

"Yes, please."

She removed the spot, digging deep, before asking me if I needed a refresher on wound care. No, I think I'm good at this point on the wound care. Funny that.

Her parting words to me as she left were, "I hope I'm right this time." Given that I'm 2 for 2 in finding my own basal cell carcinomas, I hope she's right this time, too.

What if you planned a party and nobody came?

Yeah, that's pretty much how I feel at the moment. We had this brilliant idea to have our anniversary in the same place as our wedding, that's all and good, but one by one people are declining to come.

I'm saddened by this.

I had a clue in January when, just after we mentioned we were throwing the party, Kris' mom declared, "Well, we're not coming." No thinking about it. No debating the merits. No easy decline. Nope, just a slightly offended "No."

I have to say I was a bit disheartened. Only managed to be worse as the event neared. My aunts began to decline. My dad wanted to come and was willing to make this unbelievably complicated, rushed and stressed trip to be at the event, but only for a half day. I convinced him to go to Seattle with me in July instead, since the trip would be WAY less stressful and I'd have more time with him, and possibly my brothers.

Still.

When Mom declined, causing every else on her side of the family to bail also, I realized this wasn't going to be a repeat of the incredible wedding weekend we had five years ago, and we might as well just accept that.

Well, I might as well accept that.

So, here we are. The RSVP is up. I think we'll have a good time, if nothing else, with fewer people, it'll be more intimate and entertaining. A few friends from distance parts may still fly in,and it'll be great to see them. Others may just drop in, and it'll be great to see them, too.

The flavor of the dessert may be different, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still taste good.

God, it's hot.

God, is my gas mileage crappy.