Lest the reader think that their beloved Mojo is somehow immune to the siren call of stupidity, over the next couple of posts I will offer the following somewhat chronological list of really stupid things I have done thus far in my life. Perhaps some may learn from my mistakes. Perhaps others will enjoy a cruel, cruel laugh at a naive, doe-eyed Baby Mojo's expense. (You monster, you.)

1. Don’t believe your older sister when she says "Ummmm, this dirt tastes sooooooo good!"

Lesson learned: There is no good-tasting dirt.

2. Don’t believe your older sister when she says the ice on the skating rink is paper thin and covers a bottomless pit and you will surely fall in and die if you go out there.

Lesson learned: My older sister was a big fat liar. Okay, I probably should have learned that from the first rule, but what can I say; Mojo's a bit slow. Incidentally, I have never learned how to ice skate. But I have become very good at clutching the fence for dear life, screaming and sobbing hysterically for my mother. Some talents never go out of style.

To be continued at a later date....

Okay, so I noticed throughout watching the movie Julie and Julia that I adored all the Julia parts with something not quite hero-worship, since Mojo tends to not do that, but certainly admiration for Ms. Child and her husband. The other side of the coin, the young Julie and her patient husband, was treated with mild, open-minded curiosity--since I knew nothing about the blog or the people involved until I saw the movie--that gradually degraded into a lot of eye-rolling tolerance, and then eye-rolling intolerance, and then a great deal of looking at one's watch waiting for it to end until we could get back to the Childs.

Of course this has been the basic tenor of just about every review out there, whether they focus on the acting talents of Meryl Streep as Julia versus just about any other female on the planet, let alone a young twenty-something, or if they instead focus on the comparative Stalwart Characters of the two actual women themselves, at least as portrayed in a movie. I'll just give one example of what I'm angling about: when Julia Child realizes the book she's been working on all these years has been rejected by the publishing house, she dwells on self-pity for about fifteen seconds and wonders if she's wasted all that time on a folly. And then she takes a breath, says something like, "Oh, well, boo-hoo, let's move on" and shakes it off. The titular Julie, on the other hand, is apparently prone to having hysterical crying tantrums when she doesn't get her way. Literally flopped on the floor crying like a toddler.

Now, Mojo is by nature something of a Stoic, which is perhaps a kind way of saying "heartless monster" and to be honest nothing makes me want to slap someone more than someone over the age of, um, say, TEN who behaves in that fashion.  MORE Mojo! »

Mojo has spent the last four days--after a solid WEEK of car trouble, mind you!--with the sort of digestive trouble that makes one feel as if one has been repeatedly kicked in the stomach for several days in a row. Plus we had to Visit People this weekend, and Mojo is not much good at being in polite society. What with her hating other people and all.  MORE Mojo! »