Hello. You are listening to Mexican radio - curtesy of the neighbors in the apartment below.

Crepe makers are wonderful things...and a Hubby that makes crepes...It's a wonderful life.

I feel so old. All I want to do is sleep...and - well - sleep. I had a wonderful dream the other night that I was young again. And I was going out to lunch and go shopping with Clinton Kelly from What Not to Wear...and I had to buy a new outfit so that I would look chic enough to have lunch with Clinton Kelly. Wouldn't it be nice to feel young, chic, and well-rested? And a little less violent than I have been feeling lately?

Hello, darkness my old friend...Darkness is only my friend when I want coffee, or want to brood over philosophical issues, or government conspiracies...And darkness has always been the perfect catalyst to change me into a chatterbox. (The next time that anyone who reads this blog sees me, I will be greeted with bright lights and ear muffs...) But I am sick of darkness. I want sunlight.

The mariachi band next door is louder than my thoughts...I wish I knew Spanish so that I could tell them exactly what I think about them. I would like to stuff a soccer ball up their heinies.

I wonder how the musical Mexicans below me would feel if they knew who lived above them...The old, crazy catlady...with the grey sweatpants and the huge collection of glass miniature kitties...Someday I am going to take my glass kitty collection to the vet...

Great...their little brat must be as sick of the music as I am. Shut up the radio and the squalling kid. Gotta love livin' in the ATL.

Oh if I just wasn't a lady what wouldn't I say! And if I only knew Spanish...or just a few Spanish cursewords...