CNN headline I'm most ashamed about clicking today:
"Sienna Miller: I'm no victim"

Most recently added Amazon.com wishlist items:
"Wet Hot American Summer" (I've only ever seen it on cable; I'm sure there's a lot censored out) and the complete DVD collection of "The Office." Our friends Ron and Bethany lent them to us to watch, but we really need our own copy. It's hilarious. And I watched the whole first "series" without knowing about the subtitles, so I couldn't understand half of what they were saying (and only about 20% of what came out of Finchy's mouth).

Thing that's bugging me today:
I'm not wearing my wearing band, and my fingers keep searching for it. I took my rings off last night to make salmon patties, and I forgot to put them back on. Runner up thing that's bugging me: My mouth. It hurts. Canker sores suck.

My grandmother called me last weekend, and in the middle of the conversation, she told me that she'd found a bunch of newspaper clippings of columns I'd written when I was working at my hometown newspaper. I was the news editor, and one of my responsibilities was to write a weekly column. Mine was called "For the Record," and it was basically a weekly exercise in blathering to fill the space. I really hate conflict, and I don't enjoy pissing people off, so my column was written to be as non-offensive as possible. In other words: I didn't discuss politics, religion or money.
I think Nana was my most regular reader. And she told me several times that she appreciated the fact that I avoided controversy in those columns. There was one guy on staff who'd do everything he could to generate a flood of letters to the editor. In contrast, I was once sent flowers by a reader. I'm embarrassed by that, by the way, not braggin'.
During our phone call, Nana flipped through several columns and asked if I remembered writing about certain things. I didn't, but I hope she keeps them because I'd love to read what my 20-something-year-old self felt compelled to share with the whole town.
I bet most of them would make me grimace. 20-something-year-olds can't usually hide the fact that they think they've got the world figured out. I'm 33 now, and I don't know anything.

It's Friday, and it's almost 5! Jesse will be staying for the parents night out program offered two Fridays a month by his after-school program. So SkooterPie and I will have a Friday night to ourselves. Tonight's agenda: Lots of art openings. No, really. That's all we have planned. At least there'll be wine. The rest of the weekend: haircuts for Jesse and me on Saturday, birthday party for one of Jesse's classmates on Sunday, and picking out my bridesmaid dress for April's wedding on Sunday.