'the only boy smashed between four sisters'

i will no longer make excuses for not posting more often. however, i'm afraid i will continue to feel some guilt about not doing it more frequently.

i'm utterly embarassingly fascinated by what ET/access/D-10/even real news programs are terming britney spears' breakdown. seriously. i am by no means delighting in her obviously having a rough time with … life, but i am truly riveted by the story. i feel sad for her but can't help but greedily wait for the newest tidbit of information.

for the record, i do think she looks sweet with a shaved head.

i can't believe that i have spent the last 15 years of my life not knowing that the book strider existed. dear mr henshaw was/is one of my favorite books since i read it in elementary school - how could there be a sequel i never realized was there? it thrills me to be teaching both books this year and seeing that works from my childhood are still relevant and becoming modern classic children's literature.

in related subjecture (i think i made that word up - or maybe just its usage), i'm distressed at the trailers i have seen for bridge to terabithia, another childhood favorite. perhaps my memory is flawed, but i never envisioned it as the heavy-on-the-fantasy dreamscape the clips are pushing. i don't want to see the film and feel as though the book has been ruined for me.

amusing are the Looks i sometimes receive when reading my kid picks in public as an almost 30-year old. i had "strider" with me when i donated plamsa yesterday and i caught glances from people who were obviously trying to figure me out. as if i would make more sense perusing the literary merit of us weekly - which, of course, being me, i could have also produced from my voluminous handbag.