i dreampt the other night i found this truely adorable diaper bag for ten dollars. it was italian and leather. and on friday night i caught myself at a firework show checking out other mom's strollers; mentally comparing, rating, which ones i would like, conrad would like, look good in. i'm forcing myself to get my hair cut tomorrow. it's been too long and things are getting unruly; i need to keep the balance, i'm afraid one day i'll be That poor lady on What Not To Wear or Ten Years Younger. it's consuming, and all i want to do is throw myself into it's throngs: conrad emery. forget the fact my roots are terrifying, forget every owning a pair of prada high heeled boots, forget it all. god, i'm stoked. it really could be any moment now. Now. but if it's not he'll, whether he likes it or not, be here on the 19th. that's the docs orders.