I'M BLAMING MARTIN SHEEN

OK, so that last block didn't get done last night, but I figure I still have tonight to finish (since technically the week ends on Fridays, right?) I had good intentions of getting it done, and I even stayed up until 3am to do so, but I was experiencing technical difficulties.

Alright....I'll confess. I cried so hard watching The West Wing that I popped my contacts right outta' my head. And then I was so vaclempt that I just couldn't concentrate on anything but the damn TeeVee and it was the wee hours before I even realized it. (Hey, give me a break, will ya'? If Oprah Winfrey Her Very Self can cry her eyelashes off, I figure I can at LEAST cry my contacts out, can't I?)

Now as to this whole West Wing obsession, please keep in mind that there are 22 episodes per season and I am almost done with Season Five. That's over 100 hours of viewing time in about a week and a half. I know, I know, I need to have my head examined.

What's that you say? Moderation? I'm sorry, but I don't know the meaning of the word and you might as well tell me to go pole vault my house than get me to figure out how to stay in the middle of the road. I'm an extreme kind of gal, don't you know, so we'll just have to learn to live with it and love me anyways, K?

Do you suppose that there is some element of OCD/compulsion that makes us com padres in stitching? I mean, how many non-stitchy people do you know that would spend hours upon hours organizing threads. Or charts. Or obsessively collect patterns because they're part of a "series" and (God forbid), you don't have all eleventy-six of them before nightfall? How many times have you stitched in your sleep, or spent those sleepless nights thinking about your next project?

Am I alone here, kids, or will you join me in CrazyTowne? Can I be the Mayor?

(Which reminds me of a funny story....I was the Mayor of Cincinnati, Ohio for a day. Yup. Sworn in and everything. I even managed to pass important sewer and waste water treatment legislation and I signed some law about a park somewhere. You can look it up. Really. You can. And, what's even MORE impressive than being the Mayor of Cincinnati for a day was that I was all of 17 years old when I did it.)

Ah....youth.

OK, so the plan for tonight is to hit the Happy Chair with Spring Snapperland and a diet Coke (maybe a little pizza too) and not get up until it's either a) finished or b) they come to haul me away for a little "rest" at a licensed facility. I'm promising myself not to cry tonight and to get through Season Five (and then maybe start Season Six). Who knows? Maybe I'll actually finish the whole damn thing over the weekend and you won't have to hear about it anymore. Wouldn't that be just ducky?

Stewey sends his love. He had a splendid day with his Aunt Chrissy, who did this for him:

Wasn't that sweet of her to clear a path for him and even uncover some grass for his deposits? (I don't have the heart to tell her that Stewey has decided that going outside to potty isn't on his color wheel. I open the back sliding door and he aims his weinie outside and waters the patio without ever getting his paws wet.) Damn dog. (Stay tuned, because I'm sure Little Lord Fauntleroy will have something to say about me revealing his secrets.)

In the meantime...have a happy weekend and stitch your eyeballs out!