That Ray Stevens song about sitting up with the dead comes to mind.

So, it is officially THE big day. And, here I am at two in the morning, refusing to miss any of it. Watching live coverage of absolutely nothing on CNN.com and listening to NASA-tested and recommended mattress infomercials in the background, I feel so aloof. I just can't attach myself to the feeling or proper emotion that a day like this particular inauguration day should bring. Perhaps, then, a siesta is in order. Clearly. I just keep trying not to commit any grammar offenses that will only truly embarrass me later.

Do you think that Barack Obama is wrestling the same anxiousness at this very moment? After eight years of language misdemeanors, should he be worried that the office he will take is cursed by a vicious and toothy grammar-butchering monster (the same savage thing that infected 43)? Like a noxious stench or a highly-communicable disease, will it hang around? Will it take him down? Or, does it go back to Crawford with its host?

Social vigilante brings you glad tidings.

Tonight, in my history class, I found myself defending Scientology. Apparently, it's not greatly popular in Corinth, Mississippi, and I get that. Because, I don't get it...scientology. What history I know of Scientology makes me really wonder how people can follow it. Then, again, many people don't understand my faith, and I get that.

So, no one was really attacking Scientology. It wasn't necessary, and any efforts to attack it would've been futile - preaching to the choir if you will.

My argument is that there are so many people that are disenfranchised by Christianity and other religions. It's kind of nice that there are so many choices for people to find their niche. To be spiritual and have a connection with something bigger than yourself even if it's alien or something of your own devices, well then, shouldn't that be celebrated?

With the same fervor that I regard my faith in God and the salvation afforded me by Jesus's sacrifice, I always want to defend people trying to find that (whether it is a faith in the God I worship or otherwise). I know what I have, and I enjoy the feeling that there is something for me beyond this. I want that for people I love.

Here, a great friend of mine sent me this link. I think you'll all find it interesting. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pascal%27s_Wager

Gateway to Fun!

I'm sitting in here in Perry County. I don't get out this way very often. Ethan spent the weekend with Nana and Pops, and I met Mags, Mom, and Ethan in Dickson today to watch The Tale of Despereaux. Now, here I am, spending the night at the house of my youth.

I don't really have anything new to report.

a big fat waste of your time

Oh, I read "She's Come Undone" by Wally Lamb. It's from way back, but I never read it. I am not sure I would've appreciated it had I read it earlier in my life. It really spoke to me and moved me in so many ways. It is really hard for me to conceptualize a man not only writing a book like this but really 'getting' it, as it seems he does. Read it if you haven't.

Now, show me what you're working with.

Jer and I are watching The Biggest Loser. I haven't stopped sobbing yet. These effers are breaking my heart. One of the women only weighs thirty pounds more than me. I am so gonna do it this time. We had such a delicious and healthy meal tonight. I feel great about it. We had eggplant nicoise and a cucumber and lettuce salad with 2 tbsp of dressing. Did you hear that? I actually measured my dressing!

Unfortunately, the weight is coming off very slowly. Then, any time I have ever lost weight quickly, I gained it right back. So, here's to doing it the right way.

I wish I could report that I am exercising. I am going to. I promise. That's like a friggin contract, a contract signed with my greasy adipose.

You flushed what!

Ethan loves the movie "Flushed Away"; so much so, that he stands on the couch and asks to be pushed off. Once, he's on the floor, he asks you to "flush him." So, I make the pretend movement with my hand, and he rolls, swirling down into the sewer.

Today, he asked me to push him into the toilet, and without his prompting, I went to make the flushing movement, when he shouted, "No! No! Don't flush meeeeeeeee." He does this every time I mock flush him, by the way. So I went ahead with the movement, and he cried while he rolled across the floor into the make-believe sewer system. He was saying, "Mommy, why did you flush me?" He was devastated. I was surprised to see him follow the rules of his own game so closely that he would do it to the point of his own distress. Then, he dramatically crawled onto the couch and curled up like a sick old lady. I said, "I'm so sorry, Ethan. You always want mommy to flush you. I didn't know you didn't want me to this time." He said, in the most funereal tone, "Mommy, you just flushed my heart."

Sometime, I'll write about how he is preoccupied with blood, bleeding, and how his body makes "doo doot" and pee pee.

Why am I even surprised?

Believe it or not - Dubya, in a last minute flip-the-bird to the environment and treasured landmarks of the American West, has pushed through a plan to mine the rim of the Grand Canyon for uranium. See below for more info and then check out this site: https://www.environmentamerica.org.
Help Save the Grand Canyon!The Grand Canyon and its surroundings are in danger. President Bush has pushed through a policy to allow uranium mining around the canyon's edge, removing the protections that we worked so hard to put into place.We have a lot of work to do. Together let's make sure that the Obama administration prioritizes protection of the Grand Canyon.

In the words of Hermoine Granger, "What an idiot!"

Two Point Two Down

Today was my official weigh date, and I lost 2.2 pounds this week. We're eating healthy foods and drinking lots of water. Somehow, I have to add the exercise element in there. Ugh. With the Weight Watchers, you try and get a lot of fiber: 1.)It lowers the point values in foods, 2.)It makes you get full faster. Another thing fiber does is gives you shredded wheat-type shits and lots of gas. Here's what it looks like when I'm thin, still curvy but thinner:

Today is the last official day of the Christmas break, and with any luck, some teacher or his/her child will be too sick for school next week, and I'll get to sub. I've done it now. I've put my voodoo all over the unsuspecting residents of Iuka, Mississippi. Nonetheless, I need to work to make some money. Oh, the new semester of the Reeducation of Chrystal M. Smith also begins next week. Drudgery. I really feel like I'm too old for it, and it's a little embarassing, because it is something I should have completed five years ago like a civilized person that wasn't chasing love and lust. I just typed "whatever." And, then I backspaced.

So, I apparently use contractions a lot, and when I read it back I do it in the voice of Sarah 'Barracuda' Palin. It makes me nauseous, and then I kind of wish I could do it like Tina Fey. I dreamt about Tina Fey last night. She was hosting SNL, and the announcer, let me google....Don Pardo, (I knew that.) (I also just went to Dead or Alive. Turns out....He's alive!) kept saying "Tina Fee."

Don Pardo, everyone:

I wanted to also report quickly that I used the word "rosebud" on the internet today, and not just here on this blog. I used the word to describe and actual rosebud and not a flower.