Got the two sequels of Dave Pelzer's A Child Called It on Saturday. Finished them by Sunday night.

What a great series! I don't recommend them if you're sensitive and squeamish, but if you're not and you like non-fiction, pick them up.

The first, as I mentioned before, is about the author's abuse at the hands of his sick mother.

The second, The Lost Boy, is about his experiences in foster care, and the third, A Man Called Dave is about him coping with his abuse in adulthood.

After reading the first book, I scoffed at the title page which claimed Dave's story was "inspirational." I certainly felt less than inspired after reading about the horrific abuse and imagining all the children who are currently suffering at the hands of the people who are supposed to have the most interest in protecting them.

The freakiest thing about the book is that the mother started out normal. She was definitely an alcoholic, but she loved her children very much and took care of them. The other weird thing is that she did take care of her other children- she just picked David as the outlet for her wrath. So to the outside world, she seemed like the perfect mother who just had a problem child.

I think as a parent what freaked me out more than anything was the question- "Do I have it in me? Could I ever treat my own children that way? Could circumstances drive me there?" I mean, sure, I think I'm a good mom, but that's just how Mrs. Pelzer started out.

Being a parent is so weird- it's like- you know you're a good person, but you love your kids so much that you'd question anyone, even yourself, as to your fitness for the honor of taking care of them.

Kyle would always tell me how he was so worried for them he was even worried about himself- viewed himself as a threat- and now I understand what he meant.

Anyhow, the point is that I found that first book highly disturbing and depressing.

But the rest of the series really is inspirational. Although there are so many heartbreaking moments, times when you just ache for this little unloved boy- the story really is about responsibility. Dave Pelzer didn't let what he'd been through destroy him- he let it make him a man who is responsible for his own life.

And really, that's amazing, if you read what he went through.

Okay, so every girl I've ever told this to looks at me like I'm cracked- BUT-

WHERE DID ALL THIS CONCERN ABOUT "VISIBLE PANTY LINE" COME FROM?

I mean, it seems like one day it was fashionable to wear tight white jeans and let everyone see the flowery pattern on your Hanes-Her-Ways underneath, and the next, if anyone can so much as make out the faint pattern of your undies you have committed a fashion faux-pas on par with such stand-bys as "no white after labor day" and "never wear WHITE SOCKS with dress pants."

I mean, how did the problem of VPL rise so quickly in the conciousness of women worldwide that it is now common practice for girls as young as ten and twelve to be wearing thongs?

It seems like only yesterday thongs were reserved for hookers and strippers.

What happened?

In a similar vein, why is it that having someone see the tiny line of your perfectly decent panties is so horrible whereas it's fashionable to pair your thong with jeans that ride SO LOW that we can not only see the top triangle of thong fabric peeking out, but can actually see where triangle gives way to STRING and EASES INTO YOUR BUTTCRACK?

I mean, surely, this is worse than a little VPL anyday???

However, I mention this to women and they all look at me like I'm insane- like "What are you talking about? I've been wearing a thong since birth!"- and maybe say something like "they're comfortable once you get used to them."

Okay, fine. I'm not buying it for a minute, but let's say they ARE comfortable. That still doesn't explain where the trend came from and how it became so common so quickly.

Does anyone have any answers?

Is it simply that I am so fashion-backward that ordinary people- twelve year old girls even- HAVE been wearing thongs all along and I somehow missed it?

BTW: Last night, I seriously thought Henry Winkler's name was Barry Bonds.

I can't seem to make myself do anything today. I feel so tired.

Yesterday, a gigantic black homeless guy was prancing around right in front of our place. It wasn't one of our regulars, either- a totally new guy.

First, he did a little hop-step while running a comb through his hair- it looked like a dance move from Grease.

Then, as a car drove by, he pranced again and did a Joker wave- that is, the only way I can describe it is to say that it was exactly the way Jack Nicholson (playing the Joker) waves in Batman. Remember the scene in front of city hall when the Joker kills his rival crime boss with a quill pen? Well, when he rides away in his limo, he gives Bruce Wayne a foppish little wave. THAT'S the wave.

Anyhow, after the wave, he turns to see Owen and I playing with Owen's trike. "Hello MAMA!" He shouts, as I groan inwardly and hope against hope that someone is watching through their window in case he tries to rob or stab me.

I've found that most homeless are pretty benign and friendly, but you never know. A gal I worked with on the campaign got stuck up with a knife by a homeless lady and forced to take money from the ATM for her.

Plus, the entire time he was talking to me he kept grabbing me with both hands around the waist- and this guy could've easily snapped me in half.

Luckily, he was so high he wasn't anywhere on the planet- completely incapable of thinking about anything. He did tell me I was very "well-groomed" though.

Then he started making jokes about riding Owen's trike. "Nah, I'd probl'y break it!!!" Hysterical laughter.

Finally took his cart and moved on.

Hopefully for good- I don't like new homeless in the 'hood.

I remember one time I told Kyle I wasn't going to get the laundry at night anymore because my neighbors all told me that one of the homeless guys had been staring at me for like half an hour one day while I was watering the lawn.

But when Kyle found out who it was, he was utterly dismissive. "THAT guy????? He's old school. I'm not worried about that guy."

-Pounds lost: 5

-Number of times I've checked on Owen in effort to make him nap: approx. 25

-Number of times "Breakin' 2: Electric Bugaloo" has been mentioned in EW: half a mil

Read The Journals of Eleanor Druse which is the Stephen King novella of Kingdom Hospital. It's unfinished, presumably because the ending will be on the show, but since it looks like the show might be getting cancelled, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it if you're one of those people who will go crazy wanting to know what happens. I personally enjoyed it anyway, because it ends in a good spot and reveals a lot of cool things that go hand in hand with what happens on the show/mini-series (which Kyle and I love).

Also read Can You Keep a Secret? by Sophie Kinsella. They're making a movie of this and I can see why- it's a very cute and entertaining book. It's one of the most obvious Bridget Jones knock-offs I've ever read, but at least it's a GOOD knock-off. I liked the characters and I actually cried when Emma's (the main character) parents finally said they were proud of her (something she'd been hoping for for ten years).

That being said, I'm getting a little tired of all these Bridget Jones clone characters. I mean, is every single woman in London a simple, sweet girl obsessed with clothes, dieting, celebrity magazines, and having long Walter-Mitty like fantasies?

The reason people liked Bridget Jones so much because she was such an original- unlike most leading ladies, she doesn't have her life together. She's not an heiress, and princess switched at birth, or a beautiful, brilliant lawyer. She's just an average girl with average intelligence who drinks too much and worries about turning 30- charming.

But it's just not charming anymore because it's not original anymore. Now that every single heroine is an exact copy of her, she is no longer an anti-heroine but just your run-of-the-mill heroine.

Not only that, but sometimes these Jones clones just sound like whiny pussies. They're always like "Oh God, my life is such a horrible mess! I can't cook a glamorous dinner party or pack a suitcase and this weekend I have to wear an AWFUL pink bridesmaid dress!!!"

Boo-hoo.

I mean, maybe it's because I read a couple of these books right AFTER reading Dave Pelzer's TRUE tale of his mother abusing him in the worst child abuse case on record in California.

It was a little hard to sympathize with bridesmaid's dress woes after reading something like that.

Or maybe it's because I have kids, and for me, if I have the chance to even peep at the morning paper I feel lucky- if I have only cleaned up one poopy diaper and one pile of dog/baby barf before 10 am, it's a good morning- if I can afford a new Old Navy T-
shirt (which will promptly be barfed on anyway), I feel rich- I have very little sympathy for young gorgeous women who can read every issue of Marie Claire or Cosmo, drink capuccinos and have croissants at cafes for breakfast, and afford clothes from designer shops.

But hey, the grass is always greener, right?

Awesome songs I have downloaded from itunes:

How Can We Be Lovers - Michael Bolton
St. Elmo's Fire - John Parr
I Wanna Sex You Up - Color Me Badd
I've Been Thinking About You - London Beat
Invisible Touch - Genesis
I Want to Know What Love Is - Foreigner
I Hate Myself For Loving You - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
Black or White - Michael Jackson

More Photos.

I wrote "Please Pick Up After Your Dog" in chalk on the sidewalk in front of our house because people are so rude they leave gigantic piles of crap all over the neighborhood. Owen has stepped in it at least three or four times.

About five minutes ago, this middle-aged couple walked by and read the message, whereupon the female actually said "That's stupid. It's not like dogs can read."

For Mother's Day I received:

A new stereo to replace gaping hole in van
A blender (for "fresh margs")
Dirty Dancing Special Edition
The Terminator
School of Rock
South Park: Season 3
Two little Owen handprints
Two little Stewie handprints

I'm on a mega-diet trying to lose my Stewart weight. I thought maybe it would just melt off like Owen's did- but I was forgetting that I gained FIFTY pounds this time. Gah.

The reason diets don't work is because somewhere between counting calories, slicing fruits and veggies, blending health drinks and planning meals, you realize that ALL you are thinking about is food. This has the side effect of making you hungry all the time.

I'm eating more often than when I gorged myself on everything in sight. My mind is constantly on what my next low-fat snack could be.

I also can't even enjoy my afternoon walks anymore because I keep thinking about how many calories I might be burning and what that might allow me to eat for dinner.

This CAN'T be the way to get thin, can it? Ugh.

I truly enjoyed Gilmore Girls last night.

I also can't believe that Rob and Amber won a million bucks, a car apiece and are getting married.

Stewart.

Book update: since I removed my "Reading" section, I'll have to post 'em here.

Recently Read

A Child Called It by Dave Pelzer

A true story of horrific child abuse. Good, but deeply disturbing. Don't read it if you're a new parent, it kept me up all night with a queasy feeling in my stomache.

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

Hilarious. Anyone would enjoy this book.

For Better or Worse by Carole Matthews

Chick lit about marriage. Kept me guessing til the end, but I didn't really like any of the characters. So-so.

Lucky by Alice Sebold

Really enjoyed this. A true story about the author's rape and its aftermath.

Little Children by Tom Perrotta

By the author of Election. The tale of an affair between married parents of small children. Funny and cute, but pretty forgettable.

In my itunes library I have 3251 total songs, 75 of which are Christmas songs. Why is it that when I use "Party Shuffle" it comes up with 2 Christmas songs in the first TEN?