Got home early yesterday after taking the girls to their pulmonary specialist. They are doing well, but still have to have steriods blown at them twice a day. To which we sing a song about "smokin the smoke". If they are pot smokers at 15, I will know why.

Most of the afternoon, Mr. Archie was MIA. I kept looking for him, but couldn't find him. It ended up that he was hiding under the bed, far under, by the wall. Jeff wondered if he went in there to die. I sometimes wonder how mucfh of what we say he understands and along those lines, how much of what we say the girls undersand and when will these two things merge? Like, does Archie know he is going to lose his balls in 2 weeks? I suppose Archie's grasp of English is currently better than the girls'. Anyway, don't forget to check out my ebay auctions to help pay for archie's ball removal.

I am starving. I am handling it well emotionally, but physically, it is getting to me. Down 7 pounds and my wedding ring is falling off my hand (I must have weighed 70 pounds more than this when I got married 9 years ago, so I guess these last 7 pounds pushed it into too big territory). Emotionally, I don't want to eat all the food int he world, but just eating strawberries and a Lean Cuisine rice bowl all day is making my face feel skinny and weird. I can feel my eyes in their sockets and even though I weigh 247 pounds, I wonder if I look like a skeleton. This is my body getting used to less food. After a week of this, going to get a burrito will make me so sick. My stomach will have shrunk. This is the goal, but getting there is so hard. I remember the first time that I went through this, I would find myself hungry in the middle of the night and wake up starving. This has not happened yet, thank god. Can you believe I used to get up and eat in the middle of the night? Now that is sad.

I bleached and redid my pink last night. I felt like an artist, I had so much color all over my arms and ears and neck. I have learned that the color is most pretty when you leave a hint of blond roots. It also adds to the doubletake. I added a line of blue haired freak, which makes me look a little like a gay pride flag or something. I sit in a hallway of sorts at work and people keep walking past and commenting on it. Some to me, some to each other. For a while after I gave birth and gained all the weight back, I worried that I wouldn't be able to pull this off and then in a new work environment, I worried it some more. Having spent two nights belaching and then pinking, I know I can. It is just so much prettier this way. This past weekend, I noticed that my sister and I are starting to look more like one another. I looked down at her and thought I was looking at myself. The shape of our faces in the same and now the shape of our hair too. She is constantly dying hers to get rid of the blond, while I am constantly adding it to get the lightest base possible for my canvas of hair. Jeff mentioned it to me too, that as I drop the pounds, Lisa and I look more and more alike. This is weird because as kids we didn't look anything alike.

This made me think about how one feels when they look like someone, whether it be a parent or a sibling or even a grandparent. For a long time, I looked just like my great grandma, Sarah Kilby. This made me love her more even though she has been dead for 20 years. Even though my only memory of her is cloudy. Her in her dirty kitchen with her parrot. Her and her tan skin and all the wrinkles and how she looked just like her hound dogs. I suppose if you have good self confidence, you WILL love someone more who looks like you. And what does this mean for my girls who are identical twins? How will they feel about looking alike? Right now, it is as if Rachie is merging into Anya. This is always sad when this happens because you lose the old Rachie in a small way. I guess this is true about all things that change. You lose and you gain. I love this about life.