When I first lost my voice the other day, E and I went to IHOP. He had to order for me and everything--he looked like a controlling boyfriend!
After about a day of me being voiceless, something creepy started happening. I was using whistles and clucking noises, tapping and slapping to get my ideas across. Slowly, eerily it dawned on us: I was becoming Harpo Marx! I sincerely hope that never happens to me again, as much as I do love Harpo.

I saw the last episode of M*A*S*H tonight and almost cried. I hate endings, I hate goodbyes, I hate dealing with finales. Maybe that's a psychological problem--I don't know--but I've always been that way. It stops me from entering into a great deal of relationships or even embarking on new beginnings. Everyone dislikes farewells, but I think I take it to the next level.

Ash Wednesday is almost upon us. Time to meditate on the Sorrow Mysteries and grow closer to the Crucified Christ, Christ in the Garden, Christ in the Tomb. Then, by Easter, hopefully we can all arise with the Resurrected Christ, joyful and confident in the Lord. Pray for me and I will pray for you all.