Right.  So the deal is, apparently, that I need to get out of my own head.  Because I can mindfuck myself so completely that I have no idea which way is up and then just decide that I can go ahead, curl up and die because I am a stupid, fat, ugly piece of crap.

GOD.

Anyway.  It's been way, way, way too hot here in Chicago.  It was nice and then it was horrible and now it's supposed to get nice again.  Soon, I suppose, it will get horrible again.  I prefer cold to hot.  I can always put more clothes on, people.  I can only get so naked.

And don't tell me you didn't know Michael Jackson was going to get off.  You knew it.  My friend iconeater thinks Jackson will wind up living most of the time in Europe and get his hand caught in the cookie jar over there.  Perhaps.  On cnn.com his lawyer is saying that Michael is going to be more careful.  That so doesn't make me feel any better.

Also-Tom Cruise?  Off the list.  I recommend you all get the FREE KATIE gear available on www.cafepress.com  I simply cannot watch him in another movie.  I'm done.  Too bad because I was looking forward to "War of the Worlds."  Jackass.  Vitamins will cure post partum depression... ooooooooooookkkkaaaayyyyy y.  What. EV. er.

So I'm looking to change jobs.  I'm interviewing, etc.  Interviewing is just brutal.  It's so hard to meet with 6 different people in 3 or 4 hours and try to convince them to hire you.  After awhile, you just kind of give up.

Go Arsenal!  Go Spurs!

Ok.  I'm done.  I'm going to sit quietly and try to STOP THINKING.

I'm thinking about a boy and I'm going to think myself really sorry if I don't quit it.