Taylor's away message says, "Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?" So I go,

me: i think you can get there once the sunny days have chased the clouds away. Taylor: haha. i think so too me: word. Taylor: i hate my job me: i am sorry to hear that but i support your hatred Taylor: and i think sesame street would be great sweeping the clouds away. . . . on my way to where the air is clear! me: oh you got much farther than i did lol i only recalled the 1st line Taylor: ha. i used to love that show and i think we did something at camp where i needed the lines me: me too, but it's been a long time since i sang along

And so begins a conversation that on average days (hump days especially) turns into one of those IM conversations that you're so grateful for, the ones that have you shaking with laughter for extended periods of time for various reasons, but the chief one being the fact that it is so good anytime you reach into that well of friendship and come up with a fantastically full mug of ... somethin'. (Sometimes I can't take a metaphor anywhere.)

Taylor and I chat rather sporadically. She's always hard at work, and I have an amazing knack for overlooking the blinks at the bottom of my screen, so we get to each other when we get to each other. This makes for moments of hilarity and ordinary chatter, but on the whole, we chat real good. I trace this overlooking "prowess" all the way back to elementary school. I am one of those people who are poor scanners. You know, if you give me a page of directions, I'm the person that ignores the "NOTE:" - you know, the note that comes in bold with the colon and important directions ... Yeah, I just tuck on into whatever's on that sheet, totally ignoring the fact that the note says something like, eh, "Do not do anything on or to this worksheet."

Anywho, today was notable because we were both laughing at the same time several times throughout this conversation; we were thinking the same things, blah blah. We had achieved synergy, we were in the IMZone, if you will ... forgive me if this is too corny for you, but when you're bored and restless like I was today, conversations like these are great and memorable and worthy of sharing because they do more than get you through the commercials during Oprah.

Still, they have moments like this:

Taylor: i have to interupt there is this person who keeps calling me - and it is the wrong number me: dude. i hate that. Taylor: and so i plugged them in as do not answer! haha and they just called me: lol you are funny and clever.

Why do I uses "Lol" as much as I do? It's like a stinky form of nicotine for me. I don't really even smoke, but you know, it's the same tricky habit. It's funny though, how I'll read over some IM conversations and just be aghast at the use of "lol." I see why some people have sworn against using it. I wish I could be you, oh noble, ha-ers and smiley-facers. I wish.

But I am not. I lol like a friggin' hyena. The good thing is that at least I've gotten better about it. I'm now laughing out loud maybe 40% of the time, which is significant, because I used to just abuse that sucker. I mean, I'd be stonefaced and sighing but I'd still type "lol." It's like a free complimentary service that comes with a chat. I use it to reassure you, but hell, I'm not in charge of floating your boat, so I've decided that I must TRY to refrain and so I've improved. You feel free to verify anytime.

Anyway, I am still high off that muther scrubbin' Mt. Dew - crack in a can! - so I'm posting as much of this as possible. At least Taylor and I will enjoy it. Suddenly, though, I'm scanning and realizing that I suck as an editor. What's funny and what's not? Does everything NEED to be funny here? (No.) Oh, does Taylor want me to "publish" that she's actually Taylor? (Too late.) Oh, we'll be skippin' this part fuh sho' ...

It's so hard though because you know how you say something that is just really funny to you, and then you post it like I just did with one portion and suddenly you go, "Damn. That's not funny, Danita (or whatever your name is). What is WRONG with you, girl? You need a nap ..."

So yeah, I'll spare y'all this one part because I thought I was being funny but I wasn't.

(Do not know why I felt I had to type any of that, but this is a journey, I want to include you in on this process.)

So we's chattin' and then here comes the part where we had us a laughing spell:

me: james blunt. watching him sing reminds me of a nervous kid giving a book report

(am STILL thinking i am proud of myself for that snappy something as it is STILL making me laugh!)

Taylor: ha. i dont like watching him sing! me: i'm going to post that statement! (Check.) HA! i just said that out loud (about not liking watching him sing)

Taylor: and i dont like watching KT Tunstall sing either me: i don't like watching him b.c he reminds me of that nervous kid ROFL Taylor: looks like she's suffering from con­vul­sions me: i just saw her on ellen lol you are killin' me right now i was a bit taken aback watching her i am so posting all of this (You are so reading it, too! I hope you are laughing, but you probably aren't.) stupid caffeine has me so hyper. Taylor: ser­i­ously! i am glad they are all into their music and stuff, but no need to make love to the mi­cro­phone (must have been chan­nel­ing john mayer) me: lol. exactly. i trace this to the john mayer (now we typed the john mayer bit, seriously, at the same damn time! classic. that's what i'm talking about 'bout these wonderful IM moments.) Taylor: ROFL!! me: i'm going to call it the john mayer effect (singer/performers who we can't watch because whatever their tick/quirk is perplexes us are henceforth to be known as possessors of the john mayer effect.)

oh my god! you are great Taylor: I CANT believe i just typed ROFL me: me either Taylor: i was a ROFL virgin until then me: but that was totally worth it Taylor: dang. me: i'll expunge it from your record (sort of, i guess not really now though. so i guess instead of "sort of" i should just go with Sike!)

Taylor: true true. its nice to lose it when its worth it me: man, that was some hearty laughing Taylor: thanks. who else is weird in person? ohh antigone rising - have you heard of them? they are so much older than they sound me: i heard them in starbucks yeah, i wasn't too much of a fan of the three songs i suffered through Taylor: ap­par­ently they are ex­clus­ivly starbucks me: oh. Taylor: weird way to market me: yeah Taylor: i have some MONSTER zits right now except that they aren't zits anymore, they are scabs because I have the self control of a 4-year old me: oh my god we seriously are the SAME PERSON (I don't know HOW many people I've said this to besides Taylor, but I'm beginning to think I have Woody Allen-like neuroses.)

Taylor: i think you should post almost this whole stinking con­ver­sa­tion me: girl, you could design con­stel­la­tions on my face Taylor: oh I HATE that I am at work right now - i have to keep the laughter in! me: oh man. Taylor: do you know how hard that is?? me: i am crying and my mom thinks im retarded Taylor: what if i wet my pants? what if I snort? there is some serious energy that has to come out! me: lol. please don't snort. i am posting this (this is one of those times where I'm ashamed of how many times I repeat myself)

Taylor: oh my gosh this is what i love. . . we have spent too much time com­plain­ing and not enough time just shooting the shit me: i hope you don't mind. i can change your name to gene (or not ...) Taylor: those people dont know me anyway. me: and you're the best shootin' the shit partner ok. god. this was hilarious and great Taylor: ditto! but as you can see, the clock is now 5pm and I've got place to go (just a dog to feed)

Alright so there you have it. Because it's 6:30 and I'm STILL buzzin' off that Mt. Dew I'mma keep babblin' because I feel errybody doesn't want an e-mail from me full of babble. Whatever.

Today on Ellen they showed clips of the people dancing, and I just couldn't help but be most grateful to Ellen for raising the dance craze, and yet, I also couldn't help but laugh at the tremendous number of people who were clappin' and snappin' and wigglin' all off beat. But because it's so beautiful to see, today in that moment, I decided that from now on I will laugh with these people and not at them. Bless their hearts for moving, for getting into - er, near - the groove.

As noted above, I saw KT Tunstall perform today. Girl was stompin' on a tambourine. Mama and I made our best Dubya faces ... you know, his "what the kcuf?!" face? If you're not familiar:

I like her sound though; it's funky and a bit fresh to me, but yeah, I'll just listen to her from now on. Mr. Blunt was on Oprah today and he really seems like a delightfully chipper guy. His facial expressions and voice totally remind me of the quintessential English lad - he's so earnest and sincere and uneffected. Oprah was asking him how he felt about the success and all and his answers seriously reminded me of that little boy in Oliver Twist (I think.) - the little boy that says, "Please sir, may I 'ave some moar?"

In other blurbs, Grey's Anatomy has t-shirts that say "seriously." I think I need one. I used it less before, but since becoming addicted to that show I notice that I seriously can't do without it. It's sad really how my ability to converse takes on more and more verbal crutches. I converse like a pimp walks.

Ridiculously.

There were other "deep thoughts" sorts of things I wanted to share, but I can't recall what they are right now.

Oh lastly I suppose. This morning I heard on the Tom Joyner Morning Show that Bobby Brown got arrested again. Po' Bobby for real because this time, apparently he was at his daughter's cheerleading competition when an officer arrested him with a warrant of some sort proclaiming that he had some outstanding suspensions involving an automobile and an illegally hitched trailer???

I'll say it for you, Bobby.

"Hell to the naw!"

So he gets arrested, hauled all up and out the function and winds up being fined something like $40. Now that y'all, despite whatever problems he's had, has got to count as some form of unjust harrassment. You know whoever that cop was, he was just hatin' on Bobby Brown. Why you gonna hate on the brother? He just sittin' there at his daughter's cheerleadin' competition, you know, mindin' his own prerogative and all and he gets arrested. He was just bein' Bobby Brown, y'all! Plain and simple. Must be hard on him though, erry little step he takes, the po-po's seem to be there ...

Anyway, last night I had this dream sequence. (I like to fashion the dreams that I can remember theatrically.) In this sequenth I wondered what it'd have been like if Diane Sawyer had laughed during her interview with Whitney when she said, "Crack is whack."

Picture it: Hell to the Godot, Part 1.

Whitney: Crack is whack.

Diane busts out laughing.

Okay, so maybe that'd have ended it as Whitney would've snatched her earrings off - but not that whopping wig - and went at Diane ... but just imagine she didn't. Imagine that Diane instead busted out laughing, regained her composure, apologized well enough to get Whitney to go on ...

Whitney: Crack is cheap. I don't do cheap. I am not cheap. I have too much money to do crack. Diane: Well, do you use drugs, Whitney? Is there any way you can account for the erratic behavior, the tantrums, the cancelled concerts ...? Whitney: Crack is cheap. [Sniff, sniff, twitch.]

Diane pauses, trying very hard not to bust out laughing again. Bobby sucks his teeth loudly in the background.

Whitney: You know what Diane, if I do crack, if you and the people think I do crack, I want to see some receipts. Show me some receipts. Diane: Uuuuhhhh. Receipts, Whitney?

Bobby laughs. He's sittin' off to the side at this time, not in the frame, not mic'd up, so he sounds like he's coming from off stage someplace. It echos.

Bobby: That's right, baby. Tell huh. That's right. We want to see receipts.

Diane [gettin' a wee bit exasperated]: Why are you asking me about receipts? I wouldn't have them, now would I?

Her voice drips with na-na-na-boo-boo tones. Bobby does not like it. Whitney sucks her teeth and gives her neck a whirl.

Whitney: Well ... I wanna see some receipts. I don't do crack. Crack is whack. Crack is cheap. Diane [tad more exasperated and close to laughter, albeit nervous laughter so she speaks hurriedly]: If crack is cheap, why would there even be receipts? [Incredulous.] Furthermore, who writes these receipts and where are they even written? In the crackhouse? Are they actually written or are they typed? This all sounds highly organized for something that's so cheap, Whitney. What kind of a crackhe-er-person has receipts? This sounds terribly business-like and very hard to believe. Whitney: Well ... I don't do crack. I've never even seen it, wouldn't know what to do with it if I saw it. [Riles up.] And as for some receipts ... [Sniff, sniff, twitch] ... Ha, ha, baby, that's your prerogative. Ain't that right, Bobbay?!"

Bobby pounces into the frame.

Bobby [vaudevillian]: Aw yeah! It's my! It's yours! Di. Ane! It's your thang, ba dump ba dump, do watcha wanna do ...

And then I woke up.

Extra is on. Patrick Swayze looks like he's had some work done.

Mt. Dew is the Devil's brew ...