I lost two nights' sleep over it, but the Communion party was a success. Nobody commented on the stain on the rug, either.
Went to Manhattan to visit Mom yesterday. She's hanging in there. We ate some of the box of chocolates Aunt I. sent over for Mother's Day while watching Jane Pauley and Lorraine Bracco discuss depression. I wonder if Lorraine is on the Zoloft payroll.
Watched Craig Ferguson instead of Conan last night. Couldn't sleep but couldn't bear another of Conan's fat jokes about Kirstie Alley or Ruben Studdard, either, so I checked Craig out. He did a really clever and on-the-mark impression of Mick Jagger, and Tori Amos sang a song from her new CD. I think I'll visit Craig more often.
I saw the headlines in the supermarket that Jennifer Garner is pregnant with Ben Affleck's baby, but I didn't believe it. Then I heard the reports confirmed on television. When I think of Ben Affleck, I think about the time he went to that Canadian strip club and performed oral sex on a dancer. I can't imagine having sex with somebody with that kind of history, but different strokes for different folks, I guess.
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