"I know just the skirt to go with that..."

sad thing is, i heard that on a fishing show. doubly sad that i'm watching one. my son is obsessed with fishing. there is my airtight excuse. all for the love of my angelic child.

steve from blues clues shaved his head. he is writing music about science and love. go see all about it here.. was steve always sporting ripped biceps under those striped sleeves? how wrong is it of me to be oddly attracted to one of my little boy's favorite preschool icons? i'm a sucker for those bald heads. thanks to suburban limbo for the link.

the weekend looms before me, complete with nasty gray skies and a 90% chance of rain. this effectively puts the kibosh (ooh, what a word -that- is, huh?) on my plans for exercise. i didn't bother yesterday, as my beloved came home early and we spent the day hanging about - him upstairs in a foul mood for reasons unknown, and me downstairs avoiding his moody ass. people are supposed to be joining us today. i'll burn some potpourri and call it good. i am obsessed with having pleasant smells permeating my home when we have company, as if they might drop by, take one whiff, and hightail it right out the door in disgust. i think somehow too much of my self-image is tied up with my home. i cannot abide people thinking my home is anything less than uttlery flawless and fragrant. is this part of my self-diagnosed obsession/compulsion disorder? i'm willing to bet it is. you come over and look at me brushing out the fringes on my rug sometime, and tell me if i'm sorta crazy or not.

bah.