I'm · No · Lois · Lane · . · . · .

I like Britney. She reminds me of my sister; they were both going through a lot of the same shit at the same time, and I wondered if they'd ever get it all together or if, some morning, I'd wake up to find out someone died.

Then, they managed to pull themselves together, again, at the same time.

So Britney is my bitch; she's fierce.

Me and the minime were cruising to the mall in our spring frocks and white gloves (true that--me and boo like to dress up and fuck anyone who don't like it) and we were sipping fruit smoothies and head banging to her greatest hits album.

"Outrageous" comes on. If you're not familiar with, it's basically just B-girl saying the word "outrageous," followed by one phrase or another, implying that she is outrageous, no-holds-barred, out-of-fucking-control in all aspects of her life.

So we are singing along (even though either one of us would make Simon Cowell's ears bleed) and come to the lyric "Outrageous--my sex drive." 

Boo looks at me (mind you, she's nine) and says, "I know what a sex drive is."

I choke on my smoothie. "How the hell do you know what a sex drive is? What do you think that is?"

After being reminded that I am not to say the word "hell," Dr. Ruth informs me that a sex drive is "the urge to have sex. And you don't have one."

"Say what?" This is news to me. 

"You're too old."  

Yes, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I have gone beyond all sexual urges. It is a relief, actually. I just have to figure out a way to tell the Dragon.

"So what's sex?" 

Pausing in her efforts to give herself brain freeze, she goes, "oh, kissing and cuddling and all that yucky stuff." 

Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. "Where did you hear this?" 

"Animal Planet." WTF?? I thought that was an educational channel about animals?? Oh, wait ...

"No more Animal Planet for you."

Here I sit, drinking champagne out of a margerita glass and eyeing a box of Harry & David chocolate truffles, trying to convince myself not to eat one. It is two in the afternoon, and I'm wearing pajamas. Oh, the shame.

I spent New Year's Eve at home, and now I wonder if it would have been more exciting if I'd gone out. I haven't the slightest. I want to be out when I'm in, and I want to be in when I'm out. I feel so restless. It's the weather and lack of warmth and sunlight. I can hear the wind whistling around the eaves outside, and the sky is gray. It's so depressing. 

Anyway, I did make some resolutions, which I will probably abandon within a few weeks, but I'm such a lemming, I feel the need to do so, anyway.

1. I will stop being a cartoon character.  Do I love clothes and find it important to dress well? Yes. Do I love coffee, especially expresso? Yes. Is my life jam-packed and am I constantly running? Yes. Do I need to show only the chick-lit working girl who loves shoes and is addicted to coffee side of my personality to people? No. 

I am a not fucking cariacuture of one of those bitches. I am more than that. I love history, especially the Regency era in the United Kingdom. I like nature photography and am talented at it. I love Romantic poetry, and wish I was talented at that, but I'm not. I enjoy science and documentries.

 The long and short of it is that I swear to not be afraid of my inner geek. I have interesting things to say, and I'm going to say them.

2. I will simply allow myself to be sexy. I know it all looks good when I leave the house.  I spend enough money and time. I am told I look good by my Significant Other, whose opinion trumps all. I will not feel self conscious. Everyone is not looking at me and comparing me to girls ten years my junior. Only I am doing that. Everyone else is doing their own thing, and no one gives a shit about me and what I am doing. 

3. I will be more thoughtful. I am not an island. I will be kinder to people because they deserve it, not because being mean has the potential to bite me in the ass. In that vein, I'll be calmer, take a breath and not blow up when someone cuts in line or takes the last whatever. Life is short; spending a shitload of time getting all pissed off is a waste.

Hannie will receive:

* Baby Annabelle. She drinks, cries, wets (and yes, opens and shuts her eyes). She also costs more than a babydoll should.
* Cressida Cowell's "How to be a Pirate."
* PS2 game
* New babydoll blouse (not the black one with skull and crossbones I originally wanted to get, but a red one with hearts that SO suggested)
* Bath and Body works gift set

Robbie will receive:

* Mega spinosaurus
* Mega triceratops
* Transformers chess set
* PS2 game
* "How Do Dinosaurs Learn Their Colors?"
* "Spiderman 3"

I refuse to buy them a shitload of stuff, because they will get presents from their three sets of grandparents, five sets of aunts/uncles and various other relatives. 

I have no idea what I'm getting, and I find that vaguely irritating.

For SO I bought:

* An authentic Wille Parker home game jersey
* A Fossil watch
* Madden 2k8

That's all he gets, because we promised to only buy each other a few things and spend the money which otherwise would have been spend on presents on a new television for our bedroom. 

We did all the usual Christmas Eve things ... we wrapped presents for the extended family (9 nieces/nephews, 5 sisters/brothers, 6 parents), ate cookies, drank eggnog, watched "A Christmas Story," put out Santa's cookies and milk and put out glitter/oatmeal for the reindeer (the glitter makes it magic), and checked on Santa's progress via the NORAD tracker.  

So tomorrow ... we will have the annual giant breakfast whipped up by SO -- blueberry pancakes, omlets, sausages, crossiants ... then the opening of the presents, then we slide over to his dad's house (his mom will be there too; amicable divorce) and then to my parents (brother, sister and nephews will be down there) for dinner and yet more presents. Damn, I forgot to clean the trunk out when it was nice. That sucks; there'll be so much stuff jammed in there all day long. 

Christmas is exhausting ... maybe I'll throw it at my house next year so I don't have to leave the house.

I've been watching "Albino Alligator" obsessively. 

I kid ... I've been doing other stuff, too, but have watched that movie many, many, many times since receiving it as a birthday present from my darling Mars. In fact, I'm watching it right now.

If you don't own this movie, please buy it. It was a labor of love, and it shows. Plus, it has my favorite actor of all time in it. (Yes, I meant Matt Dillon.) Be warned that it has slight amounts of gore, a good deal of violence and a ton of cursing. However, if you like character-driven stories, it's a great buy. The plot is very straight forward, and it's more about these characters' reactions to their situations than anything else.

A wonderful cast -- Gary Sinise, Skeet Ulrich, Viggo Mortensen -- and directed by Kevin Spacey. The guy who played Law, William Fichtner, was fucking brilliant. I've never heard of him before, but if I see something else he's been in, I'll definately pick it up.

In other news, I've been working my ass off co-editing the arts and entertainment magazine, as well as my regular duties editing my paper. No doubt the 60-hour weeks have contributed to the cold I am currently battling. 

I've been doing a lot of work covering the local film scene, and one of the directors liked me well enough to give me a part in his movie, and I actually had a line, which I was terrified I'd fuck up and was actually hoping it would see the cutting room floor, I was convinced it was that bad. However, spoke to the director Monday, and as of then, it was in and apparently I wasn't awful. He also invited me to the premiere, which was sweet.

I took the car to get inspected, but apparently the front tires need to be changed, so I'll do that tomorrow and have the front end aligned as well. The car, which was only slightly used when I bought it three years go, now has more than 120,000 miles on it, and I have two years left on the loan. Sigh.

I am hating the weather -- snow sucks, it sucks worse when you have to drive a great deal and it sucks even more when you have to drive in the fucking Alleghenies, where half of the roads are on the edge of ravines.

I almost bit it coming into town -- there's an off ramp from the freeway that is notorious for icing up in bad weather, and I went down it like I had skis attached to the damn car. I was going slow, too, but the whole damn car started bouncing back and forth. When I got the damn thing stopped and parked, I was shaking so bad. 

I hate the snow. 

I also hate being sick. It makes me tired and cranky. Tired and cranky enough to burst into tears on three separate occasions and get into an argument with Significant Other that had him hanging up on me. 

It's cold ... the boiler has been running loudly, and I pray it'll last through March. It is forty years old. I've been keeping the heat down as not to activiate it too often, but I hate the cold with the heat of a thousand burning suns.

Damn, I hate when it gets dark, too. 

I just hate winter.