So what's different between my blog and most of my friends' blogs? I actually update mine and give my readers new material daily (mostly). Michael told me today that my blog is really good and that I should keep it going. So I took advantage of the opportunity to inquire as to why he stopped blogging no sooner than he started it. What he wrote in his, while it lasted, was very, very good, I thought. He said he had "nothing to write about". Like, HELLO? All I have to write about are diaper changes, spanking kids, and money problems, but apparently it's good reading material, or I wouldn't have people checking back daily to read it. If I was in the outside world 5 to 6 days a week, I'd have TONS more to blog about. And not having time is no excuse, either, because he spends a large portion of his evenings at home right here, on this very machine. And he loves to write. So then his next excuse is something like "Well I'd just be repeating everything you wrote about," to which I responded, "No, you have a different perspective on things, and plus, you are gone 8+ hours of the day, so you are seeing and doing totally different things than me." For crying out loud, start blogging again, PLEASE! Your blog needs you, and you need to blog! I need your blog! Society needs your blog! There, I've said my piece. ;-)

Be sure to set your clocks back one hour this weekend. This means that instead of your VCR flashing 12:00, it will now flash 11:00. (I heard this on an SNL rerun, Kevin Nealon's Weekend Update, last night and thought it was appropriate.) He really did do the best Weekend Update. It got really stupid with Tina Fey and Jimmy Falon. And now Jimmy Falon's gone, so it's even WORSE with Tiny Fey and Amy Polher (sp?). Nothing gold can stay....

....which reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost....

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Like, I first read that poem in the 7th grade when we had to read The Outsiders, and somehow I remembered it all these years.