Happy 4th of July!
Just like we did in 2007, we went to The Workplace for fireworks and had the usual great time. This time, N and her mom, J, M and their friends came with us. The video above is but a sliver of the majesty of the show put on by the city.

More about anything and everything later on when I'm not exhausted.

I'm listening to Prince's "How Come U Don't Call Me Anymore?" This song never gets old, no matter how many times I hear it. A close second for that honor is "Satisfied" from 3121. In third place is "The Sacrifice of Victor," a favorite of mine since the hour it was released to the public. "I know joy lives 'round the corner . . . " Damn right, tiny man.

E is so sick right now. Just in time for the end of the school year, she's caught a summer flu and has absolutely no energy or enthusiasm for virtually anything. She stayed home today and will stay home tomorrow if she feels even 50% like she did today, which she totally will. At least she'll get to go on the last day of school (Thursday).

GUESS WHAT? John Mayer responded to my tweet tonight. It was actually a semi-meaningful exchange, too. I may sound like a 12-year-old girl and that's okay. When my supposed FiOS is up and running on Friday, I'll post the completely inconsequential details. If I sound just slightly insane, it's because I've been playing nurse for a day and I'm a little tired. Children are awesome and delightful in almost every way but when they're recovering from illnesses, they turn into little missiles of contradiction.

Aaaahhhhhhh . . .

That's how I feel at the end of a really nice day spent with lovely people who are as no-stress and drama-free as they come. We know how rare that is. N, her mom and I went to Nearby State to check out a very cool craft shop (mostly weaving and knitting supplies). We had a picnic on the grass (peach chicken and pesto pasta) in the shade next to a river and we were visited by several very friendly indoor/outdoor cats who freely roam the property. I didn't buy anything because knitting is still a bit of a mystery to me but I did have the most positive Porty Potty experience of my life to date. It was reasonably clean and I didn't even have to test my David Carradine skills by holding my breath for four full minutes while I did my business. (Sorry, David Carradine. You were awesome in Kill Bill but you just so happened to accidentally kill yourself in the stupidest manner imaginable. I'm kind of upset with you right now because I thought you were smarter than that. I don't like it when supposedly smart people disappoint me with outright stupidity.)

But anyway, it was just a really nice day. N's mom is one of the most level-headed, reasonable people I've ever met and honestly, it's comforting to be around her. You wouldn't know it but I'm not someone who gets comfortable with people quickly and I didn't even notice that today. It doesn't surprise me one bit that she's N's mother. N got the common sense gene, herself.

Alright, on to the not-so-good part of this weekend. The digital TV switch has not been the cure-all that the infomercials claimed it would be. On the advice of the enthusiastic young man at Best Buy, I bought an amplified digital antenna and a converter box yesterday and hooked them up to the livingroom and bedroom TVs respectively. I started the channel scan as the instructions state and sat on my bed smugly, fully expecting to be introduced to a magical new world of crystal clear reception and a few extra digital channels that the box or antenna would now pull in. Imagine my surprise when the TVs finished scanning and I ran through what I thought would be a relative bonanza of channels. I NOW RECEIVE ONE TELEVISION CHANNEL. ONE. Sure, it's PBS and that's always awesome but it's not enough. I can't even watch the news. I can't watch the handful of stupid shows I still have the faintest interest in.

It feels almost like a failure to "give in" to getting cable but I really don't see any other options unless we're just not going to watch TV anymore. Goddamn digital switch.

Yuck, I am in such a bad mood lately. I know that it's my pesky lady hormones but that realization doesn't make it any less annoying. The nightly bedtime choice between Letterman and O'Brien certainly doesn't help matters. Ever since Conan took over the Tonight Show, it's become something that I would actually watch a few minutes of before bed. I always thought that Leno was a bit of a talentless schlub. That made the choice between Letterman and Leno an easy one.

How did mentioning my bad mood turn into this? Yuck. Full circle.

Talk about gun shy. I'm terrified that I've either not lost weight or, even worse, have gained weight this past week. Weight Watchers starts in thirty minutes and I'm beside myself as usual. Oh, hi there.

Last week, I said that losing three pounds would be unthinkable and I did it. I don't see how I could possibly have lost three pounds again. Maybe it's the bitchy naysayer in me (she's strong, folks). Let's hope it is.

I've noticed certain bones and tendons popping out once again. My wrists are becoming more defined (every weight-conscious person's dream, of course) and my boobs are definitely smaller. I could care less about the latter. A person only needs so much in that department and I've got enough left over for three or four preteens to share.

Alright, I've stalled enough. Time to haul my timid ass over there to weigh in. Not to get all Oprah on you, but maybe one day I'll begin to "own" this process.

12:08 p.m.

1.8 pounds lost. That's so tantalizingly close to two pounds, I can taste it. I should probably refrain from tasting much of anything this week.

I'm considering ditching the Smart Ones and bringing the spinach/tomato/mushroom salad with a chicken breast on top. I could pair that with some fresh fruit. I'm concerned about the sodium content in Smart Ones. It's no surprise that I tend to retain fluids and 680 mgs. of sodium in a 180 calorie salisbury steak Smart Ones can't be great for me. Sure, it's better than having a Chipotle burrito bol three times a week but still, one can always do better.

The doofi return to the office tomorrow after their three-day conference/vacation. To say that I've done nothing since they left is a major understatement. Well, unless you consider the enjoyment of dozens of YouTube videos, blogging, exercising and phone chats nothing (yeah, I think it still applies). I should probably consider beefing up the old work ethic in light of the fact that another four people were canned this week. Yesterday, to be exact. I believe that makes a total of eleven. Where does it end?

One of them was particularly sad. We'll call her JD. She was sweet, genuinely good at her job and unfailingly polite. She was the only one among the stable of catty second floor vultures who would always stop to speak and offer a smile, no matter what. She was surrounded by nasty, unfairly compensated bitches and she knew it but she didn't allow it to get under her skin. She was let go before she got her lunch into the fridge. I passed her when I was walking into the building. She was leaving at 8:15 in the morning, her lunch bag in her hand, her face streaked with tears. One of the middle managers was following her, calling her name and JD was having none of it. Even after she'd been laid off, she still stopped to speak. "Hi, Third Girl. Hope you have a good day," with a watery but brave smile. Unbelievable. I know she'll be fine wherever she lands but it doesn't make it suck any less.