On Friday night I jetted out on some last-minute-on-a-holiday-weekend-but-somehow-still-super-low airfare to visit my best friend and her baby. He�s teeny-tiny, pretty quiet, and already loved so much. He looked only vaguely like ET (what I think most newborns look like), so that was a pleasant surprise.

There was one moment where he got seriously pissed that his dirty diaper was being changed, so as his ma scrubbed his naked tush and prepared him for re-diapering, I took control of Jayden�s top half.

�Shhh, baby. Let�s not cry...�

He kept crying.

�It�ll be over soon. Come on now, little guy.�

Still with the tears.

Then I put my face near his and started with a lullaby. Holy schmoly! It worked! Keep this in mind, W. When you and MG�s little one comes along, it might just help... However, I do recommend learning the words to the songs.

By time ma was just about to lift his tushie to put a clean diaper under there (therefore an important part for me to be offering a distraction), I forgot the words. Somehow my mad ad-libs skillz came into play, and I finished enough of the song to keep the baby quiet.

Go me!

If this parenting thing works out, maybe one day I�ll squeeze one of them out.

Can someone tell me how it is that I forgot to put my contacts in *twice* this week?

I guess this just goes to show how little I think about them once they�re in. It�s not until I go to look at something that I even notice.

Somehow I managed to break my cell phone this weekend. I don�t know what I did. All I know is that the Nokia just flashes.

I recorded a message on my outgoing about how I don�t know any phone numbers and that people should be good little ones and leave their numbers for me. I�m so proud of my friends. They�re generally all geniuses (albeit the type who are so damn smart that they sometimes forget to put on pants), and I�m happy to report that only one didn�t leave her phone number in her message.

If I actually know you or have reason to have your phone number, email me it to me.

There was once a time where I could rattle off numbers like crazy. I know social security numbers, credit card numbers, driver�s license numbers -- heck, I even know the SKU for the eggs from HEB Grocery in the green container. (4122091168 for those in Texas with eggs who would like to test me. [waiting] Who�s the master now, beotch!)

However, once a hot pink Nokia got latched to my hand -- complete with a built-in address book -- all of that number remembering was lost.

With this latest phone fiasco, I learned that I know exactly five phone numbers: my parents� house (it was my phone number for eight years, after all), my dad�s cell phone, my best friend, Happy (who is my emergency contact for everything since she was the only local person whose number I could remember -- that, and she has a car!), and Benito.

These five number-holders should be proud.

If you haven�t been to the gym in a week, raise your hand.

Now give me a high-five and pass the Cheetos.

I�ve gone into super-squirrel mode with my savings lately. Besides eating in and taking my lunch to work, I�ve put many of my old books and DVDs on Amazon�s selling section, I�ve decided to abandon eBay unless I�m looking to see how much the auctions I�m holding are going for, and I�m eyeing everything around my apartment that might be of some value.

I wonder how much Ming would go for. You guys just let me know...

Of course, you�re likely not the best audience for getting rid of this cat. You already know of her affinity for shitting on my bathmat, how she�s always in my face, and how she sheds all over everything.

I don�t make a very good sale, heh?

Darn.

Someone please remind me not to have more than one child. I�m afraid of what I�ll do if I love the other one more. I�m pretty sure you get in trouble for putting your dependents up for auction.

Those of you who sent me mix CDs, I promise that I have your boxes of crap. They�re right here next to my at-home desk. I just have to carry them into downtown one of these mornings to get them off to the post office that evening.

Tonight I finally got around to filling out my taxes, and OH BOY! LET ME TELL YA!

I�m getting a phat check back. If I wasn�t in super-saver mode, I�d suggest that now was the time to hit me up for a loan, some dinner, or at least a bread crumb.

Too bad for you. I�m laughing all the way to the bank. Muhahaha!

My savings account thanks you, United States of America.

I don�t know if I�ve mentioned it yet, but I�m now on a Tuesday evening volleyball team. Happy convinced me to join, and I�ve grown ever more frustrated with our abilities. We look like a bunch of retarded monkeys smacking the ball around.

And seeing that I had years of experience in high school (yes, roll your eyes here), I�m automatically the expert monkey who gets ticked of when the others do understandably retarded things. (Retarded monkeys do retarded things, no?)

Somehow -- miracle upon miracle -- our team is 5-for-9 on the season, and we�re pretty high up there in the rankings.

Individually, I�m doing fairly well. I have a problem where my playing ability matches those I�m playing with, so I�m a bit aggravated with myself whenever I screw up. I�m supposed to be carrying this team, so every missed serve (which is, IMO, inexcusable!) especially bites.

I try to make up for it in hustle, but all that�s gotten me around some awesome saves and some bruised knees. I look like my boyfriend beats me.

Keep an eye on him. He can�t be trusted...

G�nite all. Hope this was enough of an update to fill y�all in. �