Ben Franklin Croissant?

Hooray for work from home Thursday! I'm here with my buddies, Regis & Kelly. I've actually thought about asking Regis to help me find a good restaurant in NYC to accomodate our apres wedding detail. Normally this might be an easy task. However, we have my ultra prized Humanling with us and any tipping of the scales regarding sleep, excitement, diet or sun can predispose her to a wedding day or day after seizure. She will need to be handled with the utmost care and I am entrusting one or two of my closest buds to shuttle her to and fro over the state lines. One of those buddies is Organic, who is thankfully lending me her services and steely enough to take on the challenges of feeding my darling. Not to mention the potential challenge of being present when Humanling awakens as this is her number one seizure time. So I thank Organic for being that person who is going to be there (and ha ha...hope I didn't just scare the heck out of her.....its a POSSIBILITY not a probability....maybe that will make it seem easier...). My other wonderful and close friend would have to fly in from CA if she is to attend. She is half of Scorpion Equinox with me. She has a wonderful and gorgeous pup who is definitely her "child". It's seeming almost impossible to make it out here with my niece, Hennessy (that's her dog's name) so we might have to do a possible Skype or cell phone presence during the wedding. The same may have to do for my older child, Miz Eye. She is in Arizona and more than likely isn't playing the Lotto fast and furious enough to land those plane tickets.
Back to the Humanling's diet....we are both gluten free and mainly dairy free. By 'mainly' I mean that we are able to have butter (and are encouraged to have lots of it) and we have also been told that people with sensitivities to dairy can indeed have heavy cream. That something about the heavy cream is not processed the same as milk foods. Or rather, isn't processed at all if you look at some of the labels. Or perhaps I was told that really it is what is in the heavy cream as opposed to not in the milks. Regardless, we are encouraged to have plenty of that as well. I must admit, since adding a lot more fats to Humanling's diet, I think - *think* she seems to be doing pretty well with it. However, eating out is another story. I make every single one of her meals. Eating out is a huge pain in the cheeks. She also cannot have corn or corn products, soy and soy products or anything with tomatoes. I really need to just open my own restaurant and call it "Humanling Can Have This".

When we were in NYC recently, we had a wonderful lunch at a macrobiotic restaurant. I love the places that will give you a Bean of the Day! This is a huge staple here in our house.
So the dilemma is sort of this - having everyone eat according to my daughter's needs. Is this fair? Can people enjoy one meal without meat or that it isn't standard fare? Do I expect everyone to understand or do I give in and pack her a peanut butter and jelly and hope for the best? I don't like that idea. My own opinion might be too opinionated and I don't want to offend anyone at all, including the lucky man who inherits all of this on July 24th. My own opinion is personally, can people just deal for one meal. We're paying for it anyway. If they are still hungry afterwards there are plenty of other places to go. It's NYC after all! Perhaps I can strike up a bargain that I will give up first dibs on anything else if I can just take the restaurant choice.On another note.....am I the only person to have a micro freak about people who handle cash, handling your food? With their bare hands? I ordered a croissant this morning (yes, I did say we are gluten free, yes I am a hypocrite but I'm a hypocrite away from Humanling's eyes at the moment!) I like to have a croissant here and there...they aren't my main staple and I don't even have them once a week but when I work from home I do like one here and there. So I went to my favorite place where they give good croissant and ordered one to go just toasted. I figured that I would put my own butter on at home since its organic. Then the girl at the register picked one up with her bare hands, cut it in half for me and toasted it herself. Thanks but no thanks. She's handling all kinds of money and its not like I'd go and tell her boss....he was standing right there. Yeah, I know its really not a big deal to most people. But for my money, I came home ripped it up for the squirrels and made something else to eat. What a bizarre situation for me to have to point it out so I just dealt. I hate that I'm not loud enough to speak out on that at the time and spent the money on it anyway when I'm trying to save money, nevermind throw it outside for the squirrels to nibble on.

So I have croissant on the craving mind now. I thought about hitting up a Dunkin Donuts down the road....I love the thought. And having a nice coffee with it. The reality is that yes, while DD employees grab your baked goods with a wax paper, its still probably chock full of GMOs, gluten and the coffee comes in a styrofoam cup. But a nice thought, nontheless. And one I will continue to think about for a few hours.

Regarding American Idol, I don't think it is cut and dry for Adam. I'd like Adam to win however, I never saw Kris as a contender. Have all the women given up on Adam because Kris is hetero? Kris is unavailable too as the married Idol boy. Yeah, Adam's a screamer but he is not forgettable. Kris is just as cute as my widdle kitty cat Princess only he sings in human. He's not bad to listen to at all, he can sing. But I think in this competition he is a good looking quiet guy who can sing as opposed to perform. And it is a contest. If he were just himself, such as a John Mayer, its a different story. Either way, I don't vote so can't wait to see who will be chosen for the crown and will be the leading member of the Brady Bunch tour they are doing this summer.

The Nose's Best Friend

It's a gorgeous day to work from home. Actually, the only definition really of a not good day to work from home is if its zero degrees outside and the heater is busted. It's rainy here and I've got Regis & Kelly on.

One or more of the cats has completed an angry deposit into the litter box, most likely on purpose. Whenever it happens while I'm home I have no choice but to assume that the powerful death scent of the Killer Krap is meant to destroy everyone in the home.

Today is Regis's big day! Lil Kim getting booted off Dancing With the Stars meant Regis finally getting his glory moment of having her on the show to dance. And boy did she. If anything is going to give me inspiration for a little excercising before finding that exquisite dress that will turn me into a summer goddess for my wedding, it was her one minute stint. Regis finally got to dance with her as well. I don't think he could get any higher if the earth itself grew a fist and tossed him into the ionosphere.

I started this rainy morning by seeing Humanling off on the school bus and then walking, all makeupless and apparently having dropped any pride or ego in the hallway with my beautiful attire that can probably be found under keywords: crazy cat lady.

So after walking in the drizzle and taking a few sips off my hot coffee, ducking under weeping tree branches, heavy with saturated, wet flowers - all while protecting the coffee! - I knocked over the coffee nearly as soon as I sat down to work. I can't say that I'm thoroughly impressed with myself on that one. Especially since Humanling dumped over her chocolate almond milk/heavy cream drink this morning and I gave her a small helping of Grrrrr over it. So I say to the Universe - What?! Am I not allowed to miff on a spill? If I do, then my coffee cup goes side heavy and instantly gives my rug a that everlasting coffee scent?

Warning, my vegetarianism is tapping me on the shoulder for its turn here at the board. I'm hearing about this cow that escaped from a slaughterhouse in Queens yesterday. Apparently they have named it and are finding a home for it. I have heard it termed "Molly earned her freedom" by busting out. Why is that? It's sad that a cow has to be born already 'owned' and would have to do something as unlikely as busting out of a dank slaughterhouse in order for people to suddenly think it's a cute and honorable animal when moments before, if Molly had gotten hung and slit, no one would care. I get the mentality but its undeniably hypocritical. Just saying.

As far as my own personal health journey right now, well ok, so I've been way off the mark this week especially. Sugar is one ring horned devil that I really need to burn at the stake. I'd love to not hate on people who CRAVE fruit and say that oh, they don't really like cake or cookies. Whatever. Let me see the back of your pantry.

I am trying to drink more tea instead of coffee. Ok, not really trying but I did today. And ok it was because my carpet slurped it up.

In doing the laundry today, I pulled the clothes out when they were done and realized that the jacket that had gotten bird ass bombed was in there. I had to throw them all back in for one more wash. I'm sorry people but these weren't ordinary birds. This bird was a Moss Avenue bird. I grew up in that area. It's pretty slummy. Who knows where those birds have been.

As far as American Idol goes last night, I've never seen a female leave more gracefully and with power than Allison. Maybe that can be disagreed with but I think for her age and experience, she was pretty durn amazing. I don't recall it ever being down to three guys though. Perhaps they'll form a Barbershop Trio and call it a draw.

I am looking foward to the weekend, time with my little Humanling and then time with El. Something about it feels relaxing. We may not ever be sitting with all the chores and cooking but we're doing it together. I can cook all day if we're standing there together. If we were a 1600s couple we'd starve to death eventually because he wouldn't be able to hunt since I wouldn't feel like making anything unless he was standing there with me.

Time to enjoy being home and enjoy the smell and sound of the rain.

And it starts....

I am so glad that I'm getting married this summer. Looks like I will need El to get ready to flex his Extra Dad muscles soon enough. Cavey can flex dad muscles but it's like that tree in a forest contemplation....would we know if we never see him?

Humanling is starting the pre pre pre serious crush. The kind where I've heard the boy's name every day for a few days. The kind where everytime she mentions him he is "funny" or "kind" to her. AND THE KIND WHERE THEY LOST RECESS TOGETHER! Apparently he high fived her and they both had recess revoked.

Well today, Troy and Gabriella apparently sat in an auditorium together watching the grade five band and held hands. I tried to ask everything the "right" (read: non abrasive) way so that I can continue to stay in the loop.

Humanling started the hand cuddle. And Little Boy did not let go. Unless he was afraid she'd hit him.

And so since my hair is free of gray, apparently there has been a summoning.

On another note, I have American Idol on and do I need to even express the Wow that goes with show opener, Adam Lambert?

Although the judges seemed sort of lukewarm on the duet between Kris and Danny, I thought it was pretty good. And this is why I will not see my invitation in the mail anytime soon to come warm the seat next to Simon.

On to feed the boys now. I'm hearing a distinct Wheeting in the air going on in the other room. I'm sure they are ready for their bedtime meal.

The Cat Stares. It's Not Right.

I really need a focus outside of relationships. Then again, I was blessed with about five Libra placements, including my Venus, so maybe I'm in my element.

Humanling's bus was a bit late this morning on top of a delay. I have a superhuman for a boss so this isn't a problem. But it was slightly annoying. I realized that we were heating ourselves up in the car on an empty gas tank and that I'd have to make that joy trip right after the bus puffed the first clouds of exhaust my way.

Most of us probably have that gas door that won't open from the outside of the car. You have to flip up that little lever that's inside. I did that.

Nothing.

I panic for a moment. Late. Freezing. On E. Flip it again....

Nothing.

Shite man. I have to get to work, not to mention that this morning was one of the only mornings where I thought it was painful to be in the cold for a second longer than necessary.
I tapped into my inner MacGuyver. With a book of CDs, I propped up the lever and with my work badge, I picked the door open. Dilemma resolved. The world was in the flow again. Ok, ok. MY world was.

It was a rather packed work day. Many of us were moved last week and I'm loving my new digs. I'm still part of that hamster habitrail mentality but on another side of the room. Capricornius was moved as well...we're close enough to hear each other but our views are obscured....a good thing.

He emailed me to ask for a short walk today to talk. I didn't make the time because I was already in productive mode due to the late show up in the morning. I could see him getting more and more uneasy as the day went on. When this girl puts up a wall, its no Nerf deal.
Eventually about ten minutes before I was about to leave, he descends and squats down next to me. He said he needed to say something and that it can't wait. Reminder: Corporate environment. Cluster pods of workstations. Thankfully I am as remote as you can get in that situation.

Before I can get the ear piece out of my left ear, I am psychically sucker punched with the L bomb. Not Lillies. He just looks me in the eye and says he loves me. Pauses. "Completely." No pause. "With all my Heart."

I think I squirmed a little.

I used to be really demonstrative in every way. I think I lost that ability after the 2nd trip down divorce aisle at Walmart.

In fact, eons ago (I really need to use this word as a label for my posts since I abuse it so much), I wanted nothing more than to marry this Goat. But that's when the relationship was a bit more dysfunctional and he seemed to always have the upper hand. Whenever I pull away, he seems to crank the effort levels up to infinity %.

Meanwhile, Single Dad emailed me lines from Drake & Josh and I-Carly all day. And got them all right! This is truly the mark of someone that I can get along with. A Nickelodeon man. Someone who can talk about the Tao of Fairly Oddparents and what tv parents are hot on these shows. A man who can look at my Facebook account and call me on the fact that I'm "friends" with Jerry Trainor (Spencer, Carly's older brother from I-Carly). And no, not a "fan" of Jerry Trainor....Friends with Jerry Trainor. Yeah...maybe there were slightly stalkerish tendencies happening when I hit that button but it's not like I'm alone in Doing Shady Things on this planet.


Back to Capricorn....I've always felt that as long as he feels secure, the huge demonstations will end. If I let him out of Fighting Knight mode, he'll turn into King Henry during the middle stages of wivedom when he'd sorta been there, done that already. I wonder if being the middle wives is like being the middle child.

I am so pysched that American Idol is on tonight. Adam Lambert is so hot. So what if he looks like the baby that someday will be born by Joe Jonas and David Cook. No one can ruin this for me. Unless he is photographed in a tub full of mung bean strands. I don't care if he's *allegedly* gay. Aren't we all gay? Maybe that's why none of my relationships have worked out this far. They all had protrusive anatomy below the belt.

But I'm a sucker for protrusive anatomy. No pun intended. (Am I going to get a slew of love mail from the mens now?)

Well gotta go. The cat's staring at me. She's not normal.

Chef Red Flagsy

Chef Ramsey is hot. It's all because of Humanling's off chance of sleeping in today that I am even watching him on Rachel Ray.

There's no school today so I get to work from home, which is the Bee's Knees and a pot of gold. She promptly got up and turned the tv to one of her shows right before Regis and Kelly were about to air. When I work from home, I gots to have my Reege. Ugh....well, since its her day off and I should be working anyway, I had to follow the yield sign and let her have it. I usually shut the TV off after Regis and Kelly. After I took my little walk down to the coffee shop for my Happy, I gave in to the fact that I'd be immersed in the world of Diego instead. But of course on the dot as my favorite morning show is over, Humanling decides to trip on into the bedroom to play with her Barbie's and leave the TV territory to me.

Thanks for leaving me with the trash, hon.

So since I usually like some morning fluff in my coffee on the work from home weekday, I put Rachel Ray on.

Humanling walks out of the bedroom, notes Rachel Ray and asks why am I watching her.

Very simple. You stole my Hour. So now I have to watch Something.

Enter Chef Ramsey.

I'm a bit put off by the tiny hairs on my neck growling however. Not at my Ling, but when I got to the coffee shop. As many of you know if you've been following me for a bit, I want to be sure to raise the vibration of others and myself too if I can, when in contact with someone else. I usually like most people. I get along with people that others form Assassination Clubs over. It's just the odd pit in my chocolate that puts me off.

I get along with the crowd in my java cloud and exchange whatever scrapes off the morning surface of our minds for a few minutes. As soon as I walked in this morning, I could feel a man's eyes burning my face off. I gave him a brief smile and then started reading my book while waiting in line (I carry a book everywhere for that stolen kiss of literacy). He made comments to others and roped me in his conversational perimeter. But his vibe was extremely abrasive for me. I felt uncomfortable with being stared at when I would try to break out of the conversation and go back to the book. Then he'd say something and I'd have to answer or else the air around me was dense until I did. It wasn't him, it was me. I have no idea why.

And this bothers me.

Can I just accept that we (*we* meaning *I*) don't jive with everyone - and sometimes for the simple reason that our energies are like repelling magnets? That although I am trying to smile and be polite and laugh at all the little efforts to connect, my aura is snarling like a werewolf. A little man evolves out of my imagination and is building a brick wall up in between our conversation space. It's really annoying to want to accept people exactly for who they are and then to find that you just don't like how you feel around someone else.

Maybe it was how In Your Face this person's demeanor seemed to be. Or how wide his eyes were, like black holes vacuuming out my energy if I looked at him. Or that he couldn't just stop talking to me...that he had to find ways to keep the conversation going. I did my best to laugh, smile and reach out. And now my Etiquette muscle is going to be so sore tomorrow from such an unnatural flow of a workout.

On another note, I see that Atlantic City wrote me on Facebook. I read the first sentence or two and it seems back to friendly. I'll just have to keep an eye out for any other weird behavior that I prefer does not emulate my second marriage.

*update* I read his note and although he has an uncannily photographic memory of our brief teenage Summer Lovin', he did admit to a moment of jealousy over my long call to the other guy since I hadn't jumped at the chance to speak to him in a phonely way right away. He then said that he realized that we are pretty much doing the same thing - finding our old friends and reconnecting. Both of us. Of course we both want to speak to our old buddies. So my loveys, does this make him sorta ok? Is he on Orange Flag alert or maybe coming back down to normal since he could speak the truth? Did Jeffrey Dahmer pour out his truth as he flipped through his braised hearts and garlic recipe, dinner drugged and roped in the corner?

Eek. That WAS a horrible vision. Sorry guys. Once in a while I do like to use my sun sign's potential to curl a toe or two.

For me it was a step in the right direction but I'll still keep walking backwards with my eyes on everything surrounding me. And be forthright with what comforts me in a friend and hopefully may I comfort as well.

American Idol is on tonight. My joy. This is the only show that I schedule for myself. Lies. Regis & Kelly. Ok, but that's when I work from home. Big Bang Theory. That just started in October.

So far I really like Danny Gokey (the guy who's wife died) and really just can't believe they sent his buddy packing. I also like Matt Girard (I think that's his name. He sort of looks like a Nashville Justin Timberlake). I'll have to keep watching to remember the rest.

I am a tad remorseful that they sent (call out the trumpets) that adorable horror flick making guy, Cody, home. If I'm going to adore those in the pre-ability to beard segment, he'd be the candy.

Off I go to not burn the greens tonight like I did last night. I'm glad I own copper scrubbers.

Creepier than The Hanging of Saddam

Clay Aiken to be a father? I hope its a girl. No boy should have "DIVA" sprawled across the back of his diaper.

Does anyone remember the lyrics to "Invisible"?

"If I was invisible

Then I could just watch you in your room

If I was invincible

I'd make you mine tonight"

Is it just me or is being "Invisible" in this context synonymous with being a "lonely, outskirts of society type criminal"?

Who is "you" in the song? Is it a 50 year old woman?

Hmm.....slinky, non viewable entity who likes to watch "you" in your room....sounds like a sperm donor moment, Indeed.

Beautiful. God Bless you, man.

The Unopened Email

After sending that email last night, with my heart in my throat (Mmm! Bursting with Heart flavor!) I felt prepared to breathe for a few days. My response to HIM - THE guy that I sent the apology to after five years, was only sent last night. He wouldn't write back too fast. I can just relax and think, what's done is done.

Until I open my inbox today and see his name.

I can't open it. I have dinner in front of me. I don't want it ON me if his email says something that will tip my balance of well being. Anyone who knows my nervous system knows to remove all visuals and odors of edibles when I am nervously distraught. With the exception of lollipops, hard candies and peppermints.

It's like Russian Roulette Christmas. The anticipation of opening the present! But knowing that what's in the box is either 90% going to kill you or 10% be that decapitated Barbie styling hair head that rolls up without a body that you wanted. And if you're a guy reading this....you know they fascinated you too.

I was fully prepared to never ever hear from him or have a stray wisp of his hair blow anywhere in my compassed direction. But he did write. And I wrote back. BUT MINE TOOK OVER A DAY TO COMPOSE.

Now this....unread email sits there. It took less than 24 hours for him to reply.

Again, I stick the wand into the bubbles, pull it out, blow some good ones and then catch one of them on my skin. And it hasn't popped. While I'm waiting for the minor shock and splat of soap in my eyes, I'm staring at it for as long as it will exist and again, the time has stopped.

I wasn't prepared for a response to begin with, nevermind a second one. In my cartoonish imagination I imagine opening it and in 24 pt font it bitch slaps me with a polite *Thanks* and then *don't contact me anymore*. In my not wanted fantasy, there is a sound bite attached to the email that knows when I've read the last word and then plays the sound of the Yahoo IM Door closing. Crreeeeak. KaPlunk.

Well, what do I want him to do? Mapquest me and knock on my door? (Hellllll no - bad hair and roots day).

While I torture myself with the actual opening moment of the email (I will probably put an ad in the local paper - "The Grand Opening of So and So's Email! Get a free keychain!"), I will check the time for the Results show for Idol (America does love Double D's after all and so do I) and base it somewhere around there. Before? So that I can take my mind off it by watching the David's cry? After? So that I can read it and have no distractions? Should I put Lifehouse on while reading it in order to raise the drama ratings?

I'm going to think positive. I put too much thought into all of this for the last few years to just be a one woman show, acting out his parts as well as mine.

Deep breath! Time to check the time to see if we have time to stalk our local librarians or not before all of this goes down.

Those Crazy Idol Rockers!

Wow! Who KNEW that a slow tempoed ballad really had a backstage pass into Rock and Roll Hall of Fame night? I will now have to revamp my entire knowledge of the music catalog.



Anyone who has read my blog realizes that I am quite possibly a teensy bit of a rabid David Cook fan. His opening Lack of Experiment with Duran squared's "Hungry Like the Wolf" was actually good contrary to everyone's Eh response. The problem here is that DC has gotten so highly anticipated week after week that his *not re-vamped* performance of Hungry Like the Wolf came off like Einstein putting together a 500,000 piece all black puzzle. Yeah, it'd be a big deal if someone else did it but the bar has been set too high now. The expectations from ADD America needs instant gratification. I however would be fine if David Cook got up and recited his ABCs. I'd dial in at least four times.



I think now that Syesha is the only female, she had to fill in the archetye of Brooke White and just allow the tear dam to erode very publicly. I never get why no matter what Syesha does, the judges seem to have some really bad secretive joke going on and tell her that "It was just a'ight for me, Dawg." She can outsing a mockingbird and she's like Spongebob on the episode where Squidward is the art teacher. Despite his perfectly drawn circles and carved statues, Squidward convinced him that basically he couldn't even defecate right. If she sings a Dolly/Whitney song and shatters windows, they would just slap her Whitney Touchin' wrists and hand her a broom for the glass fallout.



I no longer know what to say about Jason Casto except that for someone who was finally in his element, he imploded, taking the words to the Bob Dylan song with him. I'd have to say that the essence of Bob was not invoked. After the tour is over, he will have a promising career in Benetton billboard underwear ads.



And the adorable monchichi. I'nt he sweet? We all know that sweet things are not good for us in large quantities. So neither is this. He must only put out singles when its time to immortalize the charm - no remixes, no covers...in fact, no songs. Jingles. He can do jingles. And have someone sing them FOR him while they release him back to the Cute part of the jungle.



Meanwhile, Bo Bice will be helicoptered back to the Lynyrd Skynyrd part of the jungle. Bo looks like most of my ex boyfriends from my 20s. Something registered strange for me with David Cook standing in the background as part of the mandatory whole note clapping to a gratuitous Bo Bice solo. Almost like the Alpha Dog's bark being reduced to a momentary yap.



Down to the boot though. Jason Castro is the most jubilant of all those who have had to step down and wait for the tour to start. He seems quite happy and makes it difficult to feel bad for him. As I watch him give his final Idol words, it strikes me who he reminds me of - John Travola's Danny Zuko in Grease. If they ever shoot Grease 3 in Jamaica, Jason Castro, no doubt will be riding his surfboard in the main role.

Mmmm...Mmm! MeYOW ya'll!

This one is going to be short. No really. I am too capable!

I just have to divulge my bubbling hearts for David Cook. I have no problem enjoying the concept of American Idol. This season, I am so grateful there is DC. And no, its not a 'hot guy' thing. In fact, when I first saw him I thought he was rancid looking. He seemed to be so pale, showing off all kinds of vitamin and sun deficiencies. However, he had me at "Hello". Lionel Richie's "Hello". Duh-Duh-duh-Duh-Damn. He slowly allowed my heart to reopen to the dirty boy thing, which as long as its behind the glass on tv, is totally proper.

I don't usually have really good Idol vision. My original favorite this season was Danny Noriega. Wow. I said it out loud.

Is it just me or does David Archuletta sound like he had a Michael McDonald transplant? That boy is a monchichi in a Members Only jacket. I'll bet he has a bellybutton above the base of his spine where his tail fell off. I've nothing against the boy - he's adorable, but not derrrty sexy growling adorable, like of course, Danny Noriega. Kidding. Wanted to wake you up. Do I even have to fill in the blank there as to who that was really about? "Hello....Is it me you're panting for?"

Speaking of monkeys....

I really do like Paula Abdul a lot. I was all about Do-Do Ya Love Me when I was 18. But sometimes she reminds me of one of those robotic cymbal clapping monkeys when a contestant has performed. CLAP CLAP CLAP CLANG CLANG CLAP!

I must admit a small evil pleasure. Brooke is gone. It was like having a five sun planet. Brightness everywhere. No hiding from it. Its hard to believe she has even consummated her marriage.

Jason Casto just seems like a dude who washed up on the set from the parking lot of an Arby's. He just shows up, makes sleepy eyes at the viewers and keeps from falling over. His voice reminds me of a record player from the 70s, before people really really cared about bass. This boy really knows of some good sh*t. I'll bet he is good friends with Herb and has somehow found it in pill form to keep noteriety down.

I do rather miss the theme nights. They've chosen some tough and nonsensical mentors this season. I don't know why they don't just dig up Pavarotti and make them all sing his stuff next week. Or have Animal Sounds Imitation week. Neil Diamond just sort of reminded me of Neil Young with access to a bath. I know they are like apples and oranges but hey - I can't help what comparisons fill the slots in my mind.

Notice when the person who is going home is announced though. The girls previously would hug that person, let the person exiting stage left run their noses on their shoulder. When Brooke was announced as going home the other night, Syesha completely filled her Girl Requirements as Brooke probably reknit Syesha's shirt in saliva and snot alone. However, David Cook and Jason Castro moseyed over and immediately just sort of kept a two foot distance while shoving both hands in their pockets. Please don't make me have to hug her. This fabric stains.

And on that note, both the litter box and guinea pig cage have been cleaned. My garbage is now a total threat that must be dealt with. OCD baby. Clean hands, clean hands.

This Ain't Your PBS Telethon....

Psssshhhya. I'm not even watching that. I'll pack or something instead.

That's what I said earlier today regarding the Idol Gives Back Show. The Kleenex Cam would show that despite my usual impenetrable outer candy coating, I'm falling apart at the suffering, loss and beauty in all of the eyes portrayed. I've never seen so much beauty in pain. Or maybe I am one of those people who gets caught up in the energy of the moment and tomorrow the sun will shine and Spring will once again gently shush those emotions into a See No Evil hiatus.

Idol gives back raises deep questions. Will the Mariah Carey uniform someday change? Or will she stuff lovehandles into a tight black tank top when she is 55?

The Bitt O' Pitt section of the show was a fringe benefit. My first memory of Brad was in the movie Kalifornia. I fell in love instantly, only to go on to then incorporate into my hemisphere dirty looking, greasy psychos who killed slightly more people than Early Grace.

My mom's hubby sent me and Humanling home with brownies tonight. I started to wonder what kind of "brownies" he whipped up. When did Vanessa Hudgens morph into Constantine Maroulis?

No television event, or event otherwise, is complete without Miley Cyrus. I got in the car this morning and Miley was in the passenger side, pouring me a cup of coffee. She's EVERYWHERE. Not to be taken in the negative sense (oh no....we don't do that anymore), as she is completely adorable and funnier than a raccoon sporting a foam finger promoting Beano. I enjoyed her performance, even with its weird I-want-to-be-sexy-but-still-come-off-awkward-when-I-attempt-to-almost-gyrate moves. I, on the other hand, wouldn't sue anyone if I were given the chance to hula in the same hoop with her daddy.

Humanling watched the beginning of Idol. I thought this would be a good way to show her how she lives in absolute royalty in comparison. As Annie Lennox cried after the story about the four boys without any living relatives, I wiped my own tears away. Humanling merely said "Here comes the singing. We're doomed." She all but "Blah Blah Blahed" the whole segment. That's what I forgot to include when I paper mached her together! A heart! I'll feed her one tomorrow for breakfast. She'll be a missionary by Saturday.

So was the show instrumental in raising awareness? I was heavily reminded of those things that break my heart even further. Dollar stores, cheap smiling plastic toxic toys, the newest electronic gadget, the must haves. The only must haves include clean water, quality food, shelter and love. I hope all of those watching, who enjoy a few frothy drink per week (be it Starbucks or Schlitz) donated their next 2 drinks to the cause. I can't measure in love, but I can say that I gave about three and a half peppermint mocha trios to the cause. With extra whipped cream.