You get sniffly at the end of "Blue Lagoon." People. Seriously. Let's put aside the fact that this is one bad mama-jama of a movie and the fact remains: there's not even anything TO cry about! Teen parents and offspring are alive and well; just sleeping. And yet here I sit, imagining myself in Brooke Shields' place and Eliza in place of the little bastard jungle baby, and I'm getting choked up. Oy vey.

Wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that Eliza is sleeping in her very own bedroom (well, Madalyn's very own bedroom) for the first time tonight, and I'm convinced that someone's going to break into the house and steal her while I'm asleep?

Medication.....must get back on medication.....

If someone could please explain to me my obsession with bags, I'd be most appreciative.

I love bags. Not just handbags but luggage, tote bags, messenger bags -- anything that enables me to carry along all the things I feel I may need in whatever situation I plan to be. I posted the other week about ordering a lumbar pack (click here to see the particular one I got. Mine is pink.) Well, it showed up this morning and I spent a good fifteen minutes checking it out, examining it, and, finally, experimentally putting various items in it to see if they fit and planning out exactly where everything would go when I actually use it. (Which, I should point out, is still TWO MONTHS off.)

It's an illness, I tell you.

The love of bags, for me, isn't even really about looks. I don't match them to my shoes or my outfits; I don't care about having designer ones, either. Sure, I want the ones I have to be attractive but it's more about function for me. You see, I'm unhealthily concerned with being prepared, at all times. I was a Boy Scout in a former life, I think. I would no more consider leaving the house (except to make a school run) without my purse full o' supplies than I would consider going out without clothing. You name an eventuality and I will probably have something in my purse to take care of it. The way I see it is, isn't it better to have, for example, plastic baggies in one's purse and not need them than to find oneself in a situation where it's just what you need but you don't have one?

It's not like I'm carrying around twelve pounds of lead buckshot or anything, either. All the things I pack along with me are small and lightweight. Take the drugs, for example. On any given day I have extra-strength Tylenol, Excedrin and Imodium AD in my purse, along with decongestant nasal spray. They take up very little room, weigh next to nothing, and, let's be honest here, would YOU want to find yourself in a situation where you could really, really use some Imodium AD and not be able to get any? I think not!

"So what does a weirdo like you do in the situations where toting an enormous handbag is not practical?" you may be asking. (Even if you weren't asking I'm going to tell you anyway.) Well, I do have the ability to scale down the production. Let's say we're going to be spending the day walking around some event. I have smaller purses of the type you can sling across your chest and one shoulder to be hands-free. Instead of an entire bottle of Tylenol, et. al., I take a few pills of each and put them in a baggie. I have travel brushes which fold up into almost nothing, rather than the full-sized brush I usually carry. I take a few pieces of gum out of the pack and take just those. You get the drift. This is what I will be doing with the lumbar pack when I use it at Abbey Road on the River. It also helps that the festival is on the actual grounds of the hotel, which means if I need something I don't have on hand it's just a matter of dashing up to the room to get it. Knowing that I have fairly easy access to the stuff I might need goes a long way toward making me less obsessive about having it on my actual person. It's just when I get in a place where I don't know what's available that I get a titch anxious.

I wonder what a psychologist would have to say about this particular hangup? I figure it must say something about me that one of the reasons I was so excited to get a conversion van was because it's got cupboards, honest-to-God cupboards in it, enabling me to really stock up on "may need" items for about any situation you could conjure. Perhaps it's my way of trying to bring order to chaos, which is a bit troubling. Either I'm neurotic, or I'm a Borg.

I have been so wound up all day today, ever since it hit me that I have less than 3 full days until we leave for California. It's ridiculous. I'm sitting here at the computer with my shoulders continually scrunched up. The perpetual shrug. I keep having to remind myself to relax and then I'm scrunched back up again within ten seconds. I need to do something to unwind but I'm not sure what that would be. I think I'm most in a dither about packing. Even though I have two full days left after this I have had the nagging feeling all day that I should be getting everything together TODAY. Perhaps it's because I have some other things I have to do the next two days (doctor's appointment, Madalyn's school program, parent/teacher conference). Probably the best thing I could do would be to go ahead and throw most of the stuff in the suitcases today and maybe that will soothe my psyche enough to where I can relax.

You would think I'd never traveled before! Honestly!

Well, goodness. Didn't mean to drop off the face of the earth, leaving everyone to wonder if the anti-depressants had failed and I'd been hauled off to the nearest mental health facility. Because I know that's what y'all were thinking, every last one of you. Don't lie.

Anyway, I figured I owed a good, long update on the state of things in Maryworld (Location: inside my own head. Population: One.) I'm warning you, this sucker is long. LOOOOOOONG. Have I mentioned it's long? You actually may want to wait for the audio book version to come out so you can listen to it in the car during your commute.

Consider yourselves warned. Click below to read the Jolly Green Update.

I know I have a nursery rhyme to live up to but this is ridiculous. Whatever anyone else wants me to do or whatever I'm supposed to be doing, I am guaranteed to want to do the exact opposite.

Case in point: We have lived in this house over a month now and there are still boxes everywhere. I have spent a lot of time around the house and have not yet been inspired to get any unpacking done.

Well, just a little while ago I was in JZ's room and felt a sudden inspiration to get in there and get it organized and put away just how I want it. The problem?

We are having a garage sale tomorrow and I have six bags/boxes worth of stuff that I absolutely HAVE to price today so it will be ready to take over to the old house for the sale.

Why, why, WHY is it the one day I have something else I actually MUST do is the day I actually feel like doing unpacking?? I know me and I know my game and I can tell you exactly what will happen. By the time I've priced all the sale stuff the urge to unpack will've passed and who the hell knows when it will be back?

Mad krazy, y'all, I'm telling you.

It never ceases to amaze me how completely and utterly socially dysfunctional I am.

It seems as though at the advanced age of 30 (and three-quarters) I should be able to hold down a fairly lengthy conversation, or at least make a passable stab at it. But, no, unless you engage me about the Beatles, or California, pretty much all you're going to get out of me is a lot of head-bobbing and smiling and not much in the way of actual words.

I will meet someone in person and manage to force out, at the most, three sentences. And then I will go home and proceed to carry on a lively conversation with that same person via email or a message board. This seems slightly abnormal.

I don't really understand it, either, because, at any given time, I have 147 different things on my mind, 146 of which vanish completely from my brain as soon as a conversation is initiated. The one item I'm left with is usually something along the lines of "I like sandwiches" or "My feet are sweaty." It's like, one minute my brain is buzzing with the frenetic energy of Robin Williams mainlining espresso, then someone speaks to me and all of a sudden I'm Rainman. (But I'm an excellent driver.)

So, anyway, this is a shout-out to anyone who has tried to engage me in conversation and run headlong into a dead-end. It's nothing personal, honest. You may rest assured that I go home afterward and am kicking myself for the rest of the day for freezing up. Next time you have something to say to me, it would help immensely if you could email me a detailed outline of the topics you intend to cover, preferably three to five days before the actual conversation is to take place. I'm quite sure that if I have some sort of advance warning I can prepare a script that I can follow and appear darned near normal. Certainly that's not too much to ask, is it?

Just having a mini-panic attack over buying the Paul tickets tomorrow. What if I can't get good seats? I am hoping for seats at least as good as the ones I got last time, if not better. I keep thinking, though, what if the first ones I pull up aren't that great? Do I buy them anyway? Or do I take a huge risk and throw them back and try again? Most of his shows are selling out in about half an hour. Now, I will be specifically requesting the best available $250 seats, which does keep me out of the upper levels (I think). And Ticketmaster.com is the way I got the seats last time so I do have a good chance, I think, of doing at least as well this time. I don't know, I'm just freaking. I am going to be devastated if we are so far away that we can't even tell it's Paul. I mean, why would I pay 500 bucks for to watch a concert on the Jumbotron? It's important to me to be close enough to actually see him because you never know if this will be my last chance. Who knows when he will retire? This could be his last tour! And I want Madalyn to be able to look at him and see that, indeed, that is Paul and not just some indiscernible blob with a guitar.

I guess if I am really unhappy with the seats we get I can keep an eye on Ebay for better ones between now and then, and maybe do some kind of swap, buying a new set and then selling the other ones. Hopefully that is a decision I won't be faced with.

Okay, breathe....breathe....certainly after this past year fate owes me a good turn....

I'm pretty sure I'm the only person on the planet who has to wrap gifts for Easter tomorrow.