(Another little list for you!) If I were to suddenly have five children of my own, the names I would give them are as follows:

Actually, I only want four. Maybe a little steep for some people, but it’s better than seven, which is what I was planning on for many years of my life following the “Sound of Music” phase. What more could a girl ask for than her own little singing troupe? For the record, I think suddenly becoming mother to five is preferable to all the work I’ll have this semester.

(Another little list for you!) If I were to suddenly have five children of my own, the names I would give them are as follows:

Actually, I only want four. Maybe a little steep for some people, but it’s better than seven, which is what I was planning on for many years of my life following the “Sound of Music” phase. What more could a girl ask for than her own little singing troupe?

(For the record, I think suddenly becoming mother to five is preferable to all the work I’ll have this semester.)

During a conversation I had last night with my buddy George, this particular story came up and I thought I would share it. It’s not really too much of a story, but here I go anyway.

I’ll begin by saying that I used to only post in my Livejournal and from time to time I would throw pictures of myself into the faces of those that had listed me as a friend and anyone else that might stumble onto my journal. In one of these instances I posted my senior portraits. One of them included me standing against a brick wall, all smiley, hair flipped out and short and lovely as it was in those days (as opposed to how it looks now, all Lady Godiva-like, just add clothes and take away the horse). What follows is what prompted me to make nearly everything on my Livejournal “friends only.”

Weeks, maybe months later, I was sitting in the classroom of my Anatomy and Physiology class when one of my friends walked in, a bit of a smirk on his face, looking at me. I asked him what that look was for and he told me he’d seen my picture on the internet. Well, great. Someone finally found my journal. I thought. I hadn’t been very good about keeping my entries guarded and I was a little worried about what someone might have read. “Yeah, some pop-up ad,” he said. Whoa. Now, that’s a little different than a Livejournal. When pressed for more information he informed me that one of my other classmates had “accidentally” (quotations because I have some serious doubts about that…I think the fellow was looking for a lady friend) gone to Match.com and on a pop-up ad, in all that flippy hair glory…was me. Me, staring back at him from an ad for Match.com. Sure, ask anyone, they’ll tell you that at times I have been desperate. That I’d like to get married sooner rather than later. That a date which both parties agree is, in fact, a date would be nice (there is a longer story to this, suffice to say I still am not quite sure that I have ever been on a date…don’t pity me…my internet boyfriend is better looking than yours). But I have not (yet) placed any personal ads. Print or electronic. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with people that have done this. I think it’s kinda sweet. All I’m saying is that I have not taken advantage of the services offered by Match.com, eHarmony, or any of their competitors.

By this point I am freaking out. To make matters worse, a few people were doubtful that I hadn’t posted a profile on there. I survive the day while being questioned in most every class (hello, graduated with a class of 32) and as soon as I got home, found the profile in question, emailed the poster and the administration and had the photo down within an hour.

Still, it may come in handy one day if I can put “I was on a Match.com pop-up ad” on my resumé.

The set of 7th Heaven has got to be the first stop on the way out of acting class. Or, “I-should-get-my-money-back-because-I-didn’t-learn-how-to-act” class. Tons of people watch this (or used to) and I don’t understand. In junior high it made sense I suppose, but around the time that Mary ran off with whatever guy she was dating at the time and when Simon started slicking his hair back and dating ICouldUseANoseJob Simpson, I had to turn it off. Seriously, could a family have more strangers in need and/or family members living in their house? It’s like having a Cousin Oliver every week. WHO IS WATCHING THIS SHOW?

PS; Okay…Fancy Feast® Gourmet Gold™…is there mica in this stuff? It’s shining.