I have a special appreciation for:- State troopers. But only because they're handsome in their flat-front pants and top hats with wide brims. - Those who can spell definitely correctly. It has never been spelled with an "a." But the slack spellers among us insist... - The "free" section of Craigslist. Every sofa looks like it's endured one too many weekends of half-baked couch surfers that hadn't showered in weeks and/or has been the emory board for a dozen seizing cats. - Chiropractics. My toochis no longer goes sore, then numb. Thanks, Dr. Dan. - The Cleveland Indians. Clinching their division with the help of the recently-returned Kenny Lofton, my favorite Indian of all time. Even though their mascot is still so unapologetically un-PC. Go Tribe.

I have no time for: - Runless nylons. In fact, almost everyday, I arrive to work with a nice ladder up the side of my leg (the side that is most visible to passers-by). I feel as though I should get credit, in my ever-expanding phase, for wearing anything with a tight elastic waistband. - Drama. Just because I'm gonna be someone's mama, doesn't mean you need to save it for me.

I'm quite mystified by: - The sharp little boxing gloves that remind me in the early morning and late at night that something fairly phenomenal is happening inside of me. And he/she does not yet have a name.

I've been wanting to: - Re-do college as someone who didn't care so much what her parents thought of her decisions. - Submit my writing to various publications. And this time, I'm motivated by more than bylines. I really want to feel like my voice is a part of a chorus, with a small solo carved out for me. - Re-read Jane Austen.

I've been thinking a lot about: - Grade school, and the way that I'm still never surprised at the way my grade schoolies are living their present lives. I like to think that something about spending eight years in the same school with the same people crystallizes the characters of those people, and no matter what those people do, we'll never be entirely surprised by them. - If I can survive another five years living in the finest ghetto. - If I can survive becoming a mother, one with baby weight, while attending a Korean church. My instincts tell me no freakin' way no. - My powerlessness in becoming my parents in so many ways.

- Heather B. Armstrong's reflection on her distaste for traveling with her child, and the guilt that accompanies that distaste.

I like to end on a happy note: - Because I'm a little bit Polyanna/Anne Frank sometimes. - Because I spend too much time being introspective, and I don't like others to know that my introspection is often a very dark place. - Because no one would ever comment on my blog if every entry ended with All is bleak.