09/03/2002 - 2:46 p.m.

"Show everybody your sad face, Captain"

I had a fabulous morning. The show I went to usher for, The Wiggles, was SO much fun. They're this Australian kids show, it's aimed at pre-schoolers, and they basically sing a lot of fun action songs. Apparently, they've been around since Sesame Street started going down hill (ten years). In a world filled with Barneys and Elmos (fame ruined him) and Singing Cucumbers (I want pure without religion), it's been nice to have my faith restored in children's shows. (I don't have the Disney channel, I was unaware of their existance.) I downbraid my Australian friends for not informing me of this wonderful thing they're keeping down there.

It was bright and happy and fun but it's funny- I really don't think I would've liked it as a three year old. I wasn't really in for playing along with songs. I'd have conversations with Mr. Rogers over the television, but I didn't really feel the need to get up and dance just because they suggested I do so. (I'm still like that.) However, I love it now, also, it was a live thing, so I can appreciate the talents that go into doing the show.

I bought myself my very own Wiggles lunchbox. I am one of the cool kids now. I've never owned a lunch box, and this one's metal and has bright colours on it. Besides, I hate the purse I've got now (it's a camera case from an ex boyfriend, and it's too small to hold much), and I can then go around and tell everybody who asks what The Wiggles are.

Now, onto a completely oppositely done topic. Those of you who'd rather just read happiness, get out now. (You're probably safer getting all the way out, actually, but, yeah.)

Did I mention I hate my family? Yeah, thought so. I positively can't wait to get the hell out of here and never return. As far as I'm concerned, I will be getting out and not seeing them again ever. Not weddings, funerals, reunions, holidays, nothing. They are out of my life.

This is the precise reason I didn't credit my parents in my senior bio. My parents have nothing to do with who I am. I don't see why when people would want to know about me, they would ask who my parents are. Is that so you can know who their connections are so you can know how to suck up to them? Yeah, well, I'm related to MacBeth and Abraham Lincoln, so you better start kissing.

Of course, all of this comes after a lovely one of those "nurturing family meals". Our being together doing things as a family is only a reminder of how much I can't stand them. Hug your kids sounds nice Glawey, but it's too late, if they do it, they don't need telling, and if they don't, there's a reason and things don't change.