Wow.

So apparently some sort of curse is sweeping Hollywood. First Ed McMahon, then Farrah, then Michael, and now Billy Mays. The last one is personally ironic, because last night at about 2:00 A.M., I turned the channel rather quickly because I didn't feel like listening to a boisterous salesman promote....something. That boisterous salesman, of course, was Billy Mays. Now I feel bad.

I'm not sure if I've told you about my friend Renae, so now's a good a time as any. I actually know her through Neal. We all went to the same elementary school, but Renae and I never really meshed. (Okay, maybe in kindergarten. I thought she was pretty.) In middle school, I thought she didn't like me so I tried to avoid her. I remember flipping out on her once during some class because she was touching me. But this spring/summer, the three of us have done a ton of stuff together. Renae is fun, she's unique, she is never boring.

So the lesson is.... well, there kind of is no lesson. But who says there always has to be one?

Speaking of Production Control...

The phrase "best friend" has been used way too much in the past 24 hours. Once in a way that made me slightly sad (apparently close friends doesn't equal best friends if you're married), and one that made me slightly happy.

I'm outta here.