March 30, 2007
3:29pm Friday

THE STARS IN THE SKY BRING TEARS TO MY EYES

I should be sleeping or writing thank you notes or battening down the hatches for the gigantic fire that's raging a mile away from my house next to the Oakwood Apartments on Barham right now, right above Warner Bros., which is where all the out of town actors stay when they're here this month and last month for pilot season. That's some boring trivia, but the fire itself is anything but boring -- I stood outside my side door and filmed ten minutes of crazy pluming fire stock footage that I have no use for but that is really pretty in a sad, destructive way. Maybe one of the out of towners didn't get their dream gig and set a couch on fire or something.

The view out my kitchen window and you see what I mean:

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I have nothing to report. I'm at home a lot, watching a lot of Netflix movies, and American Idol, which is god-awful terrible this season with no clear frontrunners except for Melinda Doolittle who has a fabulous voice but no neck (not being mean, just saying) and might not be very marketable. Where are the Kelly Clarksons of the world hiding these days? It's impossible to believe that this is the best singing talent American has to offer.

Also, I'm still fat. Breastfeeding is taking off pounds as advertised, but not quickly enough for my saggy parts. The boy was born 3.5 weeks ago and I'm down about 22 pounds, and I gained about 32 overall, so that's ten left. And it's a mighty ten that's not making me happy. I would happily be out walking the neighborhood with baby in stroller to shed the rest right now were it not for the ashes that would fall into our nostrils.

Also, cloth diapers are IMPOSSIBLE. My good lord. I'm trying to save the planet, but there are only so many poo explosions one can handle before disposables start looking really good.

This is where I put him while I made my lunch today. Not happy. Also, he's gained four pounds since he was born less than a month ago, and he grew an inch. This baby will be four feet tall by his first birthday, and is also testament to the power of breastmilk and giant genes.