2003-09-04 - 11:42 a.m.

Good. Just that silly GOLD banner up there now so I can get on with what I wanted to say for two days but didn't get the chance.

Welcome ELLA RHEA WAHLBERG

Congratulations are due to Rhea and Mark, they have what I can only assume is a beautiful baby girl. She was born on tuesday.

I got the news first from Don, who kept his promise to call me right away.

I didn't get to talk to the daddy (and yes, for those of us who were wondering...the verdict is in when Toby Keith asks the musical question 'Who's Your Daddy?' Ella will holla MARK THE STUD WAHLBERG YOU MOTHA FUCKA" Well, she most likely won't call him a stud, but you never know with them Wahlberg kids.) until later. Daddy cried. Daddy is so in love with his babygirl that if I weren't already in love with him I would have been by the end of that phone conversation.

Mushiness everywhere. I called Jordan but he already knew because Tracey had told both of his sisters. (Yeah, that's Tracey the mouth for those of you with the home game...move the giant lips three spaces forward and then hit yourself on the head with a brownie). So J and I rambled for a bit about babies and weddings and the like, and thought about how different things used to be when we were all young and free and sleeping with porn stars (that was just Mark...the rest of us just watched him sleep with porn stars I swear).

Sticky sweet memory lane that blurs all the horseshit and turns it into lumps of candy and weren't we all so happy then and why can't we just pull it together and blah blah blah.

I admit to being somewhat melancholy (and to not being able to spell melancholy) then, after these conversations, and not because I don't have a baby (EW) or a husband (ew) but just, because. And then my cell rings and someone I hadn't heard from in awhile says:

"Can you believe it? They let him procreate. Have you talked to him? He sounds like a woman for Crists sakes...I told him he needs some whiskey and a punch in the head, fix 'im right up."

George and I belong together. We just do.

Prove me wrong.

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