"You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent."

I hate it when people transfer themselves back to me. It's just obnoxious. "I'm trying to reach so-and so-and I got his voice mail." Well, then I guess he doesn't fucking want to talk on the phone right now. What do you want from me?

I cried like six times yesterday. God only knows what's that about besides my nerves are shot. Thank God I got a solid 3 and 1/2 hours of sleep last night and left all my makeup at home. Otherwise, people wouldn't know I was puffy and pale. Things I cried about:

• My horrible skin and fatness and hair texture, which I'm sure will all blow over when my system detoxifies and I'm no longer premenstrual, but still.
• John Smoltz's shoulder, and don't even try to make me feel like an idiot because I'm not a bit embarrassed about it. I sat at my desk yesterday with an earplug in my ear and burst into tears as this total stranger who has been in my life since I was teenager spoke of life and change and blessings and made me believe he meant it. Amazing guy. Amazing. I'm tearing up now thinking about it.
• I'm about to be in my late thirties. I guess I'm never gonna have a baby.
• Watched Juno.
• Couldn't sleep and tried to distract myself with great memories and ended wading through a knee-high batch of horrible ones.

Anyway, not off to a great start today. I'm about to go accost random co-workers for some lip color. Wish I could have just stayed in bed.

Change of mood, because I must: saw an article on line this week (when I figure out how to add links I'll start doing that) where Spellcheck ran amok in a high school yearbook, making poor Kathy Carbaugh Kathy Airbag and Alessandra Ippolito Alexandria Impolite. It's evil, I tells ya; eeeee-viilllllllllll!!

Hobby options:

• Take back up the saxophone.
• Batting cages.
• Spanish class.
• Flossing.

It's from All About Eve.

Hi, Hi, Hi, Chellie!!!