This little show of elephant love was just so funny and sweet at the same time. It made me laugh on a morning when I really needed it …

How we spent last Sunday. How everyone should spend one of the last lazy days of summer. It comes highly recommended for stress, trust me …

And as a bonus, I got to watch the husband I was mad at make a jump across both wakes and come down on the front tip of his wakeboard, which in turned rudely slapped him face first into the water. There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, like watching a spectacular crash like that to make me feel better, no matter what the woes.

Please don’t write me and tell me I’m mean. I already know …

It’s shipping, it’s shipping, order here . . .

Here’s an exclusive excerpt:
Christian was following her, she could hear him. Probably making sure she didn’t get lost again. Damn, more evidence that he wasn’t all hard-ass. She sped up, her silly – yes, silly – sandals squishing into the sand. If she ever got home, she was going to design some seriously sensible sandals. They’d be beautiful, of course, but easy to run in.

I’ve been incognito since Saturday, and because I love you guys, I’ll admit why. One word.

Charmed.

That’s right. My preordered Charmed Season Eight dvds finally came and I have pretty much inhaled all 22 episodes and the extras.

I’ve consumed quite a few boxes of cookies during this marathon, and no, I don’t love you enough to admit how many. The season was my favorite so far, I think, and that just might be because of my new crush on Henry (Ivan Sergei) . . .

And Cupid (Victor Webster) . . .

And if you’re a Charmed fan you’ll know exactly why, and if you’re not … well, trust me, you’re missing out.

Seriously. I need help …

Anyone else out there hooked on something embarrassing, and care to admit it …?

First came:

Then in December comes:

And this just in, for June 08:

“Mom, do you know what they say about big feet?”

I slid my eyes in Middle’s direction. Yes, I know exactly what they say about big feet, but I sure as hell didn’t like the thought of my teenage daughter knowing. Before I answered, I also sent my husband the evil eye, because let’s be honest, though I knew he wouldn’t have told her such a racy joke, somehow this was his fault. It’s always his fault. But he lifted his hands in innocence.

“Do you, mom? Know what they say about big feet?”

I opened my mouth to express my displeasure over the nature of the joke, when she smiled guilelessly and said, “Big feet, big socks.” She roared over her own silly humor while I let out a breath.

“That’s not funny,” I said.

She gave me another guileless smile. “Why? What were YOU going to say?”

A study conducted by UCLA’s Department of Psychiatry revealed
that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ
depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle.

For example: If she is ovulating, she is attracted to men
with rugged and masculine features. However, if she is menstruating, or
menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with tape over his
mouth and a spear lodged in his chest while he is on fire.

No further studies are expected.

I am trying to write. Trying being the operative word. My daughter is filling out college applications. This is distracting for one major reason. Do you know how much college costs? She’s looking at Stanford, so shoot me now. There aren’t enough books waiting in my brain to be written that can fund Stanford. Her second choice is one of the Universities in California, like Santa Cruz or San Diego, which are approximately $23,000 a year. Times four years. Times three kids.

Oh. My. God.

That’s a lot of words on the page, people. So I’m thinking, maybe you could all go out and buy one of my books. Okay, maybe make that two.

Seriously, how did this happen? Just yesterday I had 3 kids under the age of 5 and my biggest problem was having enough diapers in the house while trying to write romance when my life had turned into a horror movie of baby poop and baby puke. So how did I get old enough to have a kid bound for college? I mean don’t get me wrong, I was young when I had her (I was 10) but still …

According to TMZ.com, stars have special needs back stage. The VMA’s were no different. Here are some star demands:

Britney Spears gets her crudites, fruit, little sandwiches (NO BACON), margaritas, Red Bull (both reg and sugar free), and lots of flowers, candles and “girly things.”

This got me thinking. If I was famous enough to have people catering to my every need, what would my demands be? Hmm … I think go something like this:

Cookies, cookies, and more cookies. (All kinds, I’m not picky, nor do I discriminate. If it’s a cookie, I will eat it. Unfortunately.)

So what about you? What would your demands be?

This is today’s sky. There are days where I bemoan leaving Los Angeles. When I have a Taco Bell craving, for instance. And I can’t imagine why I left. But most of the time? I have skies like this and I know I’ll be happy here in the Sierras for the rest of my days. With only the occasional foray back for my culture. Like Taco Bell.