It is day 5 since my second chemo infusion and I seem to have weathered the storm a bit better this time. I sure hope it sticks! I keep thinking that I will fall into the abyss of feeling really awful again but so far this round has been all about sleep, sleep, and more sleep. As a lifelong fan of sleep, I am not complaining.

A lot of you seem to wonder how I fill my time. I guess I would say that my life revolves around resting, small nutritious meals, visits to Kaiser, and walking around in circles trying to remember what I was going to do next.

Okay, okay. I watch a hell of a lot of TV. But I am trying to keep it in check. I am mid-way through Season 4 of Six Feet Under. I am also somewhere in the middle of Season 1 of Dallas. I have seen enough Jerry Springer to last a lifetime. Tears come to my eyes when I happen upon a Simpsons episode that I haven't seen this month or this millennium.

Re-runs of Seinfeld also keep me entertained, as do old episodes of The Andy Griffith Show, Roseanne, and Sanford and Son. Last weekend, as the nation went into deep football withdrawal shock, I was riveted to BET and the In Living Color marathon.

What do Don Knotts, Redd Foxx and Larry Hagman have in common? They (are) were all brilliant actors. In 25 years I can tell you if Roseanne Barr or anyone from the Seinfeld cast stands the test of time. Feel free to argue, but please note that by throwing down the gauntlet on the man who played J.R. Ewing, I have also encumbered you with watching many, many episodes of a very stupid show before you should feel entitled to disagree. And who besides me has that kind of time on their hands?

Phred and I are still mutually enamored. He gazes at me lovingly while I do the dishes or change CDs. I feel so honored. But this is not a one way relationship: I changed his water on Monday and have added flowers to the area around his bowl. We both feel so lucky to have found each other.

Meanwhile, I think Dr. Stefanko got the hint (it is SO much easier when it happens this way) and does not need to see me for another week. I still feel sort of guilty but it was time for both of us to move on. Well, of course with Phred I HAD moved on, but I am sure Dr. S. will be okay. Thankfully, the Golden Gate Bridge isnt anywhere near his office.

Thanks to Carmelo at Stanford Hair in the student union (aka Tresidder) I am now the proud owner of a fabulous bald head. The Campus Bike Shop moved to Tresidder in early January and of course Christian is already great buddies with the crew at Stanford Hair. So, he set me up with Carmelo, who has been there since 1961. Which would be impressive, except Newell has been there since 1951. As you can tell, I was looking for professionals when I decided to ditch the mane.

Believe it or not, I am LOVING it. First of all, I had no idea that I would look so good bald. I thought that I possessed an enormous head with weird lumps and bumps all over it. Or, maybe it was pointy? But, no, I have a nice, appropriately sized head, and cute ears.

It is a liberation of sorts. An emancipation from long, thick, uncontrollable hair. Sure I will probably be glad when it grows back, but for now, I am very enamored with myself in all my baldness.

A week or so ago, I was strutting around town hoping everyone would notice my bad haircut and feel at least slightly scandalized. Honestly, it would not have surprised me one bit if some Atherton matron had stopped me at Starbucks, slipped a C-note in my pocket and urged me to get to a salon ASAP. Well, that was nothing! Now I love to put on some simple or kooky hat and walk around town with a big grin on my face. I love it if I run into someone I know so that I can yank off my hat and show off my beautiful scalp. Forget the wig for now, I am bald and proud. Well, maybe I am bald and wearing a hat and proud. But it is not some cancer lady hat it is whatever hat I feel like wearing at the moment. Think cat in the hat kind of hat and a big goofy grin and there you have it.