You would think parents know how to speak properly, right? But when I say I falled down, they keep correcting me. Or when I say I waked up. This is silly that a 2-year-old has to tell them they're wrong.
I finally watched the end of Mary Poppins, where she flies away, and I did not cry. Crying is for babies.
I keep hearing on TV about the D.C. Madam and some list of men that she has. I wonder what she does for work. I hope I never get old enough to be called madam.

You should have seen me working this Georgetown book party. I went around looking cute, and all these big shots seemed happy to meet me (though they asked pretty dumb questions like, "How old are you?" You'd think authors could do better!) Anyway, we're talking George Stephanopoulos, Walter Isaacson, Sally Quinn, lots of movers and shakers. I was really starting to network, but then I was chewing on this carrot, and...I lost it. Barf city. All over the hostess's very expensive rug. Big rush to clean up the rug. (Hey, how about my feelings?) Anyway, that ended my big night out. I have a feeling I may not be invited back for 20 years or so.

What are ho's? I keep hearing that this guy Imus got suspended for calling women ho's. But nobody ever explains what that means. No wonder television can't get younger people to watch.