Counting my blessings

Well, it's been a hectic Christmas season (I almost slipped and said "holiday season," which I find so watered down). In the last 2 months of the year, we celebrated a 60th wedding anniversary (not ours, ha), Thanksgiving, a graduation, my little sister's wedding (surreal), and Christmas. To add to the top of the "big things" for 2008, I found out I am pregnant! About 4 months along now, which is also surreal. So even though I was fighting a terrible cold these past few days, I still grabbed my husband outside of church on Christmas Eve and told him how incredibly blessed we are.

This year, I have just been really grateful that my family is together and healthy. Another little reminder of that came today. My mom got a weird result from a mammography and had to go back in to the doctor. She is fine--so those extra prayers worked quickly, but it is a reminder to not take anything for granted, least of all the most important thing: family.

The Advent season got me thinking

People have many preconceptions and misconceptions about the Catholic Church. They repeat what they’ve heard on NBC or read in Time. Very, very rarely do they actually take the time to read about what it means to be Catholic, to find out what we believe. Many seem to think that we’re blind followers of the Vatican, of “The Church.”

The new movie, Doubt, that recently opened brought with it a barrage of interviews by the cast. Here is one quote from the director:
“Now the Catholic Church has its faults, but these dioceses, these church schools, these centers, provided a gravity which kept people from flying off into outer space.”

We’re not blind followers. We do not depend on a diocese to keep us grounded. We are faithful—we are believers in the Catholic faith, and everything it truly represents, not what people like to think it does.

Addendum

I realized the post on divorce probably came a little out of the blue.

I was in Princeton this past weekend with my in laws and extended family. We were there to celebrate my husband's grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. They renewed their vows and I have to say, with all the glitz and hairspray that goes with today's wedding, there was nothing more beautiful than these two people in their 80s.

Quote of the weekend: "Life hasn't always been easy, but I feel the same way about her today that I did when I married her."

That's a special thing, but something all married people should strive toward. Be kind to one another, and laugh with each other.

Divorce today

I can't fully speak to divorce. I've been lucky in life that it is has been a fairly foreign thing. I knew a few kids whose parents got divorced. But my close friends' parents are all still married. My parents and my husband's parents are still happily (which is key) married. So I've had incredible role models who have shown that nothing good is ever easy, all the time.

But nonetheless, I do know a few people who have been divorced. Some wait years to date, some get engaged 4 months after the ink is dry on the paper. But I noticed a trend.

Disclaimer: I know this does not apply every time. There are some awful people who treat others terribly. But in the people that I do know, they usually say one of two things: They married too young, or they married the wrong person. Rarely do I hear, " you know, he did some things, I did some things, and we just aren't going to work through it."

The mistake in the latter way of thinking is that the problem lies in that one particular person. The danger in this is that if you always point the finger, and never look at the fingers pointing back, you'll take it straight into the next relationship.

Giddy as a schoolgirl

So, I feel a little silly. At 27, I feel like I'm a little too old to have a fictional boyfriend. But I do. I dig Edward from the Twilight series. And I am excited for the movie, which opens this weekend. And though my claustrophobia will probably prevent me from seeing it opening weekend, I fully intend to see it in theaters.

tagged

Hm. So I've never done this, but it's Monday, late afternoon....My friend Katie tagged me. I can't believe the whole thing is about my husband. :) So, here goes:
Where did you meet your husband?
Through his brother in college.

How long did you date before you were married?
Hm...about 3 years?

How long have you been married?
Just over 3 years.

What does he do that surprises you?
Oh, a lot. He'll write songs, bring flowers occasionally. But I love when he picks me up a trashy tabloid-y magazine on his way home, mostly because I know he really hates them.

What is your favorite feature of his?
Eyes.

What is your favorite quality he has?
Loyalty and absolute trust.

Does he have a nickname for you?
Yes, but I'll decline sharing.

What is his favorite sport?
Golf...groan.

When and where was your first kiss?
This is getting personal.

What is your favorite thing to do as a couple?
Travel.

Do you have children?
Soon, Mom, I promise.

Does he have any hidden talents?
He is a better musician than he knows.

How old is he?
27

What's his favorite kind of music?
Rock

What do you admire most about him?
His faith and character.

Will he read this?
Oh, heck no.

And one more thing...

Exactly how old are our candidates for president? Obama made some comment about a pig wearing lipstick and aaallllll of a sudden, both sides are at it like a gender-bending version of "Mean Girls."

Obama was like, "A pig wearing lipstick."

and then McCain was all, "whatever, that's sexist."

and then Obama was like, "As if. I won't even dignify that with a comment. But here's a comment anyway."

Finally McCain ended the timely, important debate about pigs by saying, "Nah nah nah nah boo boo."

Next thing you know, Biden won't invite Palin to his birthday party.

Breathe...

Well, I have had to switch gears pretty dramatically in the past few weeks. Those lazy days of summer came to a screeching halt once September began. I will now take on the challenge of work-life balance. I never have any difficulty when one OR the other is busy. If work is slammed, then things on the weekend must be relaxed, and vice-versa. Unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way.

Work will be busy from now until the spring, which is good because I enjoy the challenge and hate ever feeling idle or bored. But there is something going on pretty much every weekend from now until the end of the year. And though they’re all wonderful things (weddings, family reunions, anniversaries, football games, vacations), it can be a little overwhelming when you try to plan the remainder of the year out.

So, I must take the following:
1. a deep breath
2. one day at a time
3. into account how blessed I am.

I must NOT take the following:
1. Anything for granted.

(around) 28 days later

I’ve been gone. I’ll blame it on the Olympics, though that’s not really the whole of it. I just haven’t felt like writing anything, and that makes it difficult to post anything. Work is heating up again, and the end of summer makes me slightly apathetic. I need to be invigorated by crisp fall air! Pumpkins! Scary movies and blankets! Foliage! Unfortunately, Richmond has a delayed fall, but somehow, psychologically, September feels better, even if it is still 80.

Oh. And my 10-year high school reunion is this weekend. I know, I know, aging is all about perspective. At 40, looking back, I’m sure I’ll feel like I was a baby at 27. But 10 years out of high school is weird at 27, I don’t care who you are. And I am not going. I debated, but I didn’t angst over it. But I got an opportunity to get out of town with my husband and his parents, and I decided that it is more important to grab time with the people you love than revisit old times with people you don’t remember. Part of me wants to go, but I think I made the right decision, for the right reason.

It's a Mad, Mad World

"Mad Men." It's back and I couldn't be happier. I would urge anyone who hasn't gotten on this train to go out and get the first season on DVD. It's just that good, and it's not too far along that you can throw your hat in and say, "whatever, it's too late to get in on it now, and it's probably overrated anyway." It's not.

The costumes, sets, and music are spectacular. Over all, the characters are unique and complex (I'm not sure if anyone else has ever thought that the character of Pete Campbell can seem wooden at times...).

In all, watching the show is like drawing back and peeking inside a Norman Rockwell painting.

And now it's Monday

I drove 25 minutes to work and realized I forgot my laptop in the corner of my dining room. There is no backup, so I had to drive back home. And then back to work. Ah, Monday.

flash fiction

The baby cries. The baby cries and because I am in church, I cannot do what I want, which is reach out with my right hand and flick the back of the mother’s neck. Worse, she has let a one inch section of hair fall from her bun. I’d like to give that a yank, but it’s church so I kneel.

I look at the cracked wood in the pew in front of me and listen to the reading and singing, singing and chanting, chanting and talking. Now it’s quiet. I sneeze and the cotton-haired woman in front of me leans forward as if my sneeze had sent a gust of germs sweeping toward her. I had covered my mouth.

After the homily, I will have to show a Sign of Peace to the people around me. I will not want to, because the man next to me smells like cold cuts. I worry that the cotton-haired woman will think it is me.

Meant to post these awhile ago...

Published in The Hiss Quarterly (thanks, Cynthia):

Roadkill
When I saw the squirrel, it had not been dead a long time.
One arm squashed flat to the pavement, the other raised
in a posthumous salute, middle digit extended.


and...
Poppies

In the cemetery, a hill
dotted with red corn poppies.
Unknowing, I danced
under ochre leaves.

Mommy and daddy stayed for a long time.

Now I look at the stone,
weathered,
artificially ancient,
and shake the branches until
they rain fire.

He was only six.

It's just another manic Tuesday

Well, today is the second Tuesday in a row where I stopped to think to myself, “man, Tuesdays suck.”

Monday is what it is, you’re still rested from the weekend, and perhaps even energized to start the week. Wednesday is hump day. Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is TGIF. What is Tuesday? Tuesday is the armpit of the week.

And here is what is dangerous about this day. I allow myself time to wallow. It’s time when I think, “what does it all mean?” And usually, I find that I need to discover my passion, that I want to quit my day job (which I actually don’t mind) and _______. The problem is, what I fill that blank in with varies from week to week. Sometimes it’s teaching at VCU again, sometimes it’s going back to school for my PhD, and sometimes it’s just writing freelance and tutoring.

What I have discovered, though, is that prior to tossing my substantial benefits and 401k to the wind, I’d better be sure that I’m running cross country, not just around a track.

Straw Hat And Old Dirty Hank

Say it ain’t so. BNL (that’s Barenaked Ladies Band) defined the late 90s (and maybe even the first year or so of the new millennium) for me. That was way back when I bought CDs instead of downloading to my iPod. That was back when I rocked out in my dad’s 89 Accord. That was back when my cell phone was the size of my foot and had to be positioned to the sun and moon in order to get service.

I can think of every one of their songs defining my drama-filled moments of angst that filled my late teenage years. You know, those moments that when you grow up, you realize don’t matter the slightest? Lame, maybe, but I loved them. The band and those moments.

This is why I was so sad to hear that the lead singer, Steven Page, is faced with cocaine charges. I loved them for their music, their quirkiness, and because they just seemed like those cool, yet geeky guys you would hang out with in college. Those guys aren’t supposed to use cocaine. That’s reserved for Aerosmith, Metallica, whoever. But BNL? Oh, woe.

Steve, good luck. I hope you don’t get the 15 years you’re facing. But if you do, it’s your own fault. And I wouldn’t bail you out. Not even if I had a million dollars.

On the Brinkley

Another one who is not a poster child for successful personal relationships is the original Uptown Girl, Christie Brinkley.

She and Peter Cook have reached a settlement agreement in their particularly sordid divorce battle. She gets the Hamptons properties, and he gets $2.1 mil. I guess it's secondary (eye roll), but they will both get to see their children.

The best quote I have heard regarding this was in People:

"Another source confirmed to PEOPLE that Brinkley and Cook did briefly speak to one another during the negotiations, but added 'they don't communicate well.'"

They don't communicate well? You mean they didn't sit down together and discuss how much of their budget would go to supporting his mistress? Weird.

Drew longing for Long no more

Oh, Drew. I just want you to be happy. I've been a fan of Ms. Barrymore's for awhile now. I'm not quite sure why. I don't love her movies. Being twice-divorced at 33 isn't exactly a role model for how to run your personal life.

But I like her, darn it. She's simply seems regular, like you could get a pedi with her, which is quite an accomplishment considering she wound up in rehab at 13.

Anyway. I digress. She and Justin Long have split after a year. They even had Thanksgiving together.

They're both filming new projects. Maybe Madonna came between them...

Look out! Crazy teens!

Or rather, not...

People love to throw around hyperboles. One that has come to light in the media lately is the “slew of recent movies” or headlines about teen/unplanned pregnancy that have made it a popular topic for shows. “Slew” a bit of an overstatement.
First, they always mention the same three things: “Juno,” “Knocked Up,” and Jamie Lynn Spears. Both movies came out in 2007, which was also when Spears announced her pregnancy. Not exactly recent headlines.
Second, aside from the new way NBC has configured to lower our IQs, “Baby Borrowers,” there aren’t that many new shows revolving the topic.
So I am thinking the “slew” of movies and headlines leading to the increased number of shows is, well, just not so. It’s just something to talk about. Or fill up blogs. Like here.

Starbucks, Starlight

Starbucks is closing 600 stores nationwide by the end of the year. Looks like if you live in a city, you'll have to walk an extra 3 blocks to get your latte fix. And if you're in the 'burbs, you'll have to drive an extra 1.7 miles.

Currently, there are 16,000 stores worldwide.

What ever happened to the American dream of acai tea for everyone? Two baristas for every one person? Maybe it had to do with the tip jar after charging 4 bucks for a cup of coffee. Greedy, greedy.

Thank goodness for McDonalds.

First comes baby, then comes marriage??

I am conservative. I am not a prude, and not (too) judgmental. I know being 27 and conservative is neither cool nor popular in the media, but I feel good in the fact that I have a strong sense of what is right and wrong. Not everyone agrees with me but at least I will stand for something. None of this, "Oh, there is no "right" way of doing something." B.S. Everyone thinks they know the right way. So be proud of your belief whatever it is.

I don't understand why there has been this reversal of matrimonial order. Charlotte Church (22) is expecting her second child with her rugby boyfriend. Here she is quoted on People.com:

"I want all my babies by the time I'm 32, so then I can have everything done," she said. "We want to have our babies young and then I'm going to get married and look fabulous for that."

Look. I understand if you don't want to get married. I understand if you want to pull a Brangelina. I may not agree, but I get it. But why have babies, and plan on getting married afterwards? Built-in flower girls? What couple do you know that says after being married 50 years, "yeah, things have been good, but I sure wish we'd had kids first and waited a good ten years?"

Holding off on the commitment of marriage if it is something you intend to do means only one thing. You don't understand what marriage really means.

And yes, because it irritated me, I chose to post an unflattering picture of her.

Snow what? Good for her!

So good for Brittany Snow. In the wake of Mischa Barton's cellulite debacle and Jennifer Love Hewitt's bikini disaster (both of whom most women would kill to look like), Brittany Snow is swearing off trainers and diets.

I don't suggest you start sitting on the couch and eating cocoa puffs out of the box, but for goodness sake....go for a jog, and enjoy a glass of wine at the end of the day if you so desire.

Holy cow!

Holy heck! Jamie Lynn gave birth to a ‘lil baby girl, which (sadly) qualifies as “breaking news” from many major news sites. Her little bundle of joy is all set for a life chock-full of success.

First, her mother is 16, which means she has plenty of life experience to handle the responsibility of a child.

Second, her aunt is “show her bits” Britney, which ensures she’ll have a good role model aside from her mother.

Last, her grandmother is the woman who reared both Jamie Lynn and Britney. She made the original mold, so the little one can’t go wrong!

Not since Danilynn, Anna Nicole Smith’s baby, has there been a child so prepared to meet the world. Speaking of which, Lynn Spears, Jamie Lynn, Danilynn…anyone else see the pattern?

#1 reason NOT to buy a hybrid (yet)

I've been worrying (some may say obsessing) over gas prices like everyone else. In fact, I hate to even mention the phrase, "well, what with the cost of fuel and everything...". Yet, I've become a cliche.

Honda has rolled out a new zero-emission car. It does not run on gas; rather, it runs on hydrogen and electricity and emits water. I just saw an article that said Toyota's output of the Prius can't match demand.

So, will Honda's new zero-emission car be the auto of the future? To all those who are buying Prius', I'd watch out. They, after all, still run on gas. Honda's new car does not. Kind of common-sense which direction the technology is running in, isn't it?

Just like HD-DVD and Blu-Ray, and Beta versus VHS, there's usually only one winner in technology. Call me crazy, but I think I'll hold out on trading in my Highlander until I see who the winner is.

Ewww.

Thiiiiiiiiiiiis much (arms stretched wide): that is how much I hate summer. I am living in the wrong state/hemisphere. I'm not ashamed to admit it; I had cleavage sweat today at Costco.
What I wouldn't give to have a steaming cup of cocoa in front of a fire. I want to be bundled in my winter yoga pants and a sweatshirt.

And I'm not one of those Richmonders who complain in the summer that they want winter, and in the winter that they want summer. I like fall. And I like winter. I hate summer.

What does "feminist" mean anymore?

I'm not sure. But a friend of mine is attempting to find out through a series of questions posed to a forum of women, aged 22-30. She's taking a look at what it means to be a woman now, where we came from, and how our generation differs from the Facebook-reading, cellphone-texting, gossip-blogging one that seems to be coming up.

HH, if you're reading this, I think it'll be interesting to look at the generation that preceded us. Not just our mothers, but the women who really remember New Kids on the Block from their high school/college years (rather than elementary/middle).

If she starts posting soon, I'd love to link this to her site as well.

That's cool, Junot?

This is probably old news to my more literate friends, but I was absolutely astounded by the story of Junot Diaz, the writer who won the 2008 Pulitzer Prize for fiction. I haven't read his book (though I think I will now), but he served as an inspiration. In the interview I saw, Diaz came across so human, so real, and so...well, normal.

I think some writers can get discouraged by the intimidating literati. It can be filled with so-called artistic types, who swill coffee and smoke cigarettes. (Yes, I know this is a cliched description, but cliches come from somewhere, and believe me, I've seen it.)

But the literary community is also composed of really normal people. That's encouraging. And also lifting my spirits is the fact that every writer seems to think their writing sucks. Even good writers. I can't count the number of workshops I been in when I am exceedingly jealous of someone else's rough draft. "Why didn't I think of that," is a common thought. And the person who wrote it thinks it's terrible. And not in that phony "aw, shucks" way.

So I take heart and feel inspired again Now if I can actually do anything with it...

Livin' on a prayer

I was watching the Today show this morning, drinking my coffee as usual, a little peeved that I was low on Coffeemate. The news of the morning was Kennedy's brain tumor diagnosis. I don't want to get into the fact that he is a political figure, because where life and death are concerned, we're all on a level playing field.



What struck me was how all the anchors and senators said that their prayers were with Kennedy and his family. I think that is a great thing.



What struck me was not how the media prays when something is wrong; it is the absence of prayer when everything is all right. In fact, when something is not tragic, they're almost afraid to infringe on someone's rights by mentioning prayer.



There is a lot that is wrong in the world. But there's also a lot that's great. Let's try praying in thanks every once in awhile.





Case in point...



Pilots land on a wing and a prayer
WELLINGTON (Reuters) - Two New Zealand pilots whose plane ran out of fuel landed on a wing and a prayer, literally, local media reported on Wednesday.

Grant Stubbs and Owen Wilson from Blenheim, at the top of the South Island about 50 kilometers (30 miles) south of Wellington, were in a microlight plane when the engine cut out.
"When you're in a microlight if you crash, you usually die. I turned to O B (Wilson) and he said we had no fuel," Stubbs told the Marlborough Express newspaper.
"I asked what we should do. He said: 'You just pray, Grant.'"
Stubbs said he prayed to God to get them over a ridge and they finally landed in a small grassy area, and beside a 20 foot high sign saying "Jesus is Lord -- The Bible."

Abdul-errific

Here is when my favorite moment from this season's "American Idol" began:

Paula: "Oh gosh, we've never had to write these things down ... fast enough," she began, sounding like her usual self (somewhere between manic and "thank you, sir, may I have another"). "Jason, first song, I loved hearing your lower register, which we never really hear, um ... ."

And that's where the show started to have meaning for me again.

"The second song, I felt like your usual charm wasn't — it was missing for me. It kind of left me a little empty."

Which was awesome because Castro had only sung his first song. So I found myself (literally) stating to my LCD, "There's only been one song! There's only been one song! This is great because there's only been one song!"

I was torn between my usual glee, and feeling very awkward for her. It must make for a very messy personal life, but it sure does make good TV.

Memoirs of a Tween

I don't know why I care, but I just read that Miley Cyrus is all set to pen her memoirs. At 15. 'Nuf said.

If I'd be able to write a memoir at 15, I could have hit a mid-life crisis at 20, and now, at 27, should be able to retire.

Kids sure do grow up fast these days.

Writing again?

So I had a few poems published late last year, and I'm desperately trying my hand at short stories again. Here's where I am. I have a long way to go.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day was hotter than most. Jan stood on the platform, with the toes of her right foot inched slightly over the yellow line that was the boundary between people and trains. Right foot slightly over, left foot slightly behind and en pointe, she watched the train roll in from the left. She assumed it was coming from the West, since west was always left on a map.

The train kicked up dirt and spun it off as red dust into the air as it neared. Squinting her eyes, Jan saw that it gave the mountains that rose up from behind a pinkish hue, and she liked that. She had seen mountains before, after all, when the carnival traveled, but they’d never been pink like that.

The carnival. It was the first place she remembered and the last place she’d seen her parents.

Jan had two parents who she had called Dan and Lily for as long as she could remember speaking. Dan and Lily, especially Lily, pleaded with Jan to call them mom and dad. But they were unlike other parents, though Jan did not know it at the time. Dan was the midget who worked the Ferris wheel and Lily made cotton candy. One would think that Jan, having been born into the circus world, would not know that her parents, or even their very way of life, were different. Most children are like goldfish, and adapt to whatever environment they’re put into. But Dan and Lily were different, and Jan was not like most children.

Jan was born in the middle of a lightning storm on a night in early February. This in itself was odd, given that Kansas was not prone to lightning storms much before the spring. It was what it was, though, and it was a lightning storm. Many of the carnival workers were superstitious folk, and did not believe it to be healthy to move a woman in labor. So Jan came quietly into the world under a big top.

Life's little irritations

When I'm not living the glamorous life I was intended for (still working on that), I'm at my desk job, where I am a managing editor. Though I really do like my job, and I can't complain about my co-workers, I do have some gripes:

1. When you are done eating your yogurt, scrape the bottom no more than 2-3 times. Scraping the plastic bottom for 2-3 minutes is annoying, and more importantly, pointless, unless you want to go ahead and stick your tongue in the container. Give it up. The yogurt is gone.

2. Your cubicle is not self-contained. If you pass gas, people can smell it.

3. Speakerphone. Unless you have an office, pick up the darn thing like everyone else.

4. Your cubicle is not home. Thusly, please rid your area of candles and plants that creep into others' areas.

5. You do not need to listen to music out loud. It's called an iPod. Or headphones. Use them. Love them.

Thank you for allowing me to air my grievances.

Anyone else have any peeves?

ISO kindred spirits,
moi.

The Bachelor: Dignity Calling

So the official name of this season's Bachelor is "London Calling," but I think my title is much more appropriate. But this is not going to be another post that rants and raves against how pathetic it is that 25 moderately intelligent women are throwing themselves at one man. Nor will I marvel at the high possibility that at least one woman will contract oral herpes this season, since through kissing the Bachelor, she's likely kissing about 14 other women.

That's been done.

My sweet, intelligent husband made a remark that I think had great insight. Maybe I realized it all along, but I hadn't verbalized it.

Him: You know, men aren't watching this show (except briefly while passing through to the kitchen). The reason why this show is popular is because of women.

What he went on to explain was that by watching those 25 women throw themselves at the guy and make out, women can feel better abut themselves.

Which, at least, holds true for me. Here is where I should feel bad, but I'll be honest:

- I love remarking how ugly those women are, even if they actually aren't. All of a sudden, I'm Klum-ing it like I'm critiquing models on Project Runway. Relatively attractive blondes become heinous drag queens.

- I love to criticize how loose their morals are.

- I love to prove how dumb they all are. So what if some of them own their own businesses?

You see, by doing this, I can feel better about myself. Because, in the end, I kind of feel like anything they are is diminished by the fact that they are appearing on the Bachelor. But I'm watching it. What does that say about me?

Schadenfreude

Schadenfreude is a German word meaning 'pleasure taken from someone else's misfortune'.

I'm a nice, Catholic girl. At least, I think so, though by the very nature of my self-imposed religious guilt, that makes me a sinner. Though I digress.

So I guess it's a little sick that the best thing that happened today was watching someone get caught in a revolving door. I laughed. I shouldn't have, but it was darn, darn funny.

all the news that's fit to view

This was the news on Monday: vaccines linked to autism, is the democrats' bickering ruining their chances, foreclosures have hit an all-time high, and oil has topped $100 a barrel.

This was the news today: vaccines linked to autism, is the democrats' bickering ruining their chances, foreclosures have hit an all-time high, and oil has topped $100 a barrel.

Oh, and are we heading for/already in a recession? That was also brand-new news.

Come on, guys.

This....is American Shame

How many times does Ryan Seacrest have to plug the amazing talent pool of American Idol? It was so amazing that they cut 100 people from the Hollywood round last night.

I think I found the real key to what they mean by "talent." Here's how it works:

The contestant must dress as either a.) a complete nerd; b.) a utter freak; or c.) a total tramp. That way, when he or she (sometimes it's unclear which) gets up on stage, you form an allegedly misrepresented opinion of them based on the way they look. So, when they open their mouth to sing, it doesn't really matter what they sound like. Because either way, you'll think to yourself (or mutter aloud continuously throughout the program to the irritation of your companions), "Huh. They're actually not that bad."

So, next time you're dressing for a job interview, decide on one of the aforementioned guises (I'd recommend a or c). Hey, it works in Hollywood. Consider yourself on the cutting edge. And if it doesn’t work, you can always sue for ageism, racism, or looksism.

Oh, the humanity

Oh Lord. "ET" has hit an all-time low. The low began with Larry Birkhead being declared the father of 'lil Dannilynn. Actually, now that I think about it, that was the high point. The steady decline really started when ET formed it's pact with Satan and Larry to follow the baby's every "first." First teeth, first birthday party and now....the bottom: her first visit to, and I (more or less) quote, "the grave of the mother who she will never know."

Really? I can hardly wait to see what's next. Maybe in year two, they can reenact how exactly it was that her mother died. This, of course, will be because they will be helping her either: a.) cope; b.) learn more about "the mother she will never know"; or c.) it's sweeps week for NBC.

My parents had a baby book of my firsts. I wonder what Dannilynn will think when she's in her twenties, and looks back on the freaky video diary her father created for her. If ET's still around, they better be ready to cough up some cash for therapy.