I never told Vincent that I had a dream about him and the house trying to kill us. Last night I dreamt that I dropped a baby and broke it. I don�t know about this recent string of horror-movie dreams (with and without Vincent), but I know that baby dropping is about responsibility. Oh silly responsibility, I don�t think I want you. I do enjoy spending three hours of my day looking after a baby beaver though. Baby beavers, I can handle.
It�ll be a while before I get over last night�s Patrick Henry Paddy Awards. Now that there�s an award dedicated to me, if I ever become rich and famous, I will need to set up a college scholarship fund. I can dig that.
I had forgotten how much I love them. I do, it�s true. I love the energy and the moments of sweetness, the hilarity, the man-crushes. I love the zing � I dig zing.
One day, when I�m a crazy cat lady and Trevor and Gigi are famous actors, I hope we meet on the street by chance and hug. I hope it�s a real hug � I think it will be.
Time to watch Thelma and Louise � mother daughter bonding, to the extreme.
It�s a little disturbing, the way the seniors all know my mother better than me.
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