Lost in MySpace

I think I’ve been spending too much time alone lately. You know when you get to the point where you consider your afternoon cup of coffee the biggest event to look forward to after say, G.W. Bush’s last day in office, or the second coming of the Lord? I’ve gone WAY past that point. There are only so many times a person can straighten the couch cushions before going a little cuh-razy.

School starts again in approximately one week, three days, seventeen hours, and one minute. I wish it started again today.

Yesterday I organized the bookshelves a little, and you know what I found, and I kid you not? Sixteen dictionaries. I have them here now, on the computer desk, all lined up in a row. We have your Spanish dictionaries, and your German ones. There’re a couple French dictionaries, and two Crossword. Most of them are in English, and three are thesauruses, but the only ones I use are the fat, falling-apart Merriam-Webster’s on my nightstand for whenever I’m reading, oh, D.H. Lawrence or something, and the immense Webster’s New Universal Unabridged Dictionary my parents got me one Christmas a million years ago. That one works great if you don’t have any free weights. And also, it has a lot of helpful definitions in it.

I started a MySpace account awhile ago so I could be in contact with my kids, who spend a lot of time there. That’s the official reason I give for starting it, anyway. The REAL reason I started it is so that lots of inappropriate men would proposition me and make me feel better about myself. That’s what happened with the first account I set up, a couple years ago, which somehow got lost in the system. (Yes, lost. In the system. I’m sensing a pattern.) I was sure that by now I’d be checking every night for peeping Toms at my windows, strange cars following me to the grocery store, and boxes of candy left at my door for razor blades. However, this time around, no matter what I do or how slinkily I dress, nobody except my kids has even noticed me. It’s depressing. I’m starting to think of whoring myself out to Friendster.

I’ve found myself driving slowly past orange-vested inmate road crews that aren’t on the way home.

This isn’t the greatest segue, considering the subject matter, but Torie got her license! She was gone all day yesterday, doing God knows what, God knows where - possibly driving by convicts. But she’s having the time of her life. So now I’ve added another admonition to the two I already give her whenever she heads out the door:

1) “Don’t smoke crack!”

2) “Don’t get pregnant!”

3) “Don’t kill anyone or yourself!”

Being a mom is simply freighted with responsibility. You have to remember so many admonitions. Hey! you guys… Happy Friday. kiss! xo