Today I decided that if I were ever to make a made-for-TV movie, I'd call it "Bringing Up The Antichrist: A Mother's Story." I was just kneeling beside my refrigerator and Brittany said something about a dream she had about giving birth to a shoe and then to the antichrist when the thought hit. I made myself laugh, a LOT! It'd be great... a mother lovingly raising the enemy of the religious world. I could have lots of fun with that. Let those creative juices run wild. Man, if my baby grew up to be the antichrist, I don't think I'd claim him. How bad would you feel knowing that your child is part of bringing about the end of the world? Really, that would suck.

Question: Is it considered to be a prank call if you call a guy who you think is exceptionally good-looking and inform him of his abundant hotness? Answer: I don't know, but I did it anyway. I mean...I didn't call anybody...I was just asking...Umm...It wasn't me?

I had a very happy childhood. I had, and still have, a great family. My parents were around, we did things together. We have lots of traditions. I don't remember being afraid of many things. I was pretty fearless; darkness, monsters, and strangers never really bothered me. One thing that really did frighten me, though (no, not the baby carrots), was a garden gnome. Ugh, how weird are those guys? Creepy! They're just these foot-tall marble characters, usually wearing hats and holding hoes or picks or spades or something. That doesn't seem too bad...until you get a good glimpse at a face. Yikes! They have either huge eyes that seem to bulge out of their heads, or the eyes are very narrow and squinty. The ones with the smaller eyes always looked mad: not only was it a freakish little dwarf, but it was an angry, freakish little dwarf. That's even worse. And the noses... yikes! Again, there are two types. A) a cute, little one, or B) an over-sized snout. Think Sneezy from Snow White. Massive schnoz. A vast majority of the gnomes had the big, floppy noses. One lady I used to live by had a few in her flowerbed, and I used to hate walking past her house. Those little guys just creeped me out. Something about miniature stone creatures really got to me. And then there was the movie "Leprechaun." That certainly didn't help things out at all. :) Oh well. Today, though, I can say that I no longer fear the horrid gnomes. I still find them disturbing and weird, but I am not afraid of them. My friend Shea has 2 in her dorm room. I can't say that I am to the point where I welcome them into my surroundings, but it's ok that she does. I respect that.

I have an irrational fear of baby carrots. Regular, long carrots are ok, and the smaller ones that aren't too small are ok, too. But for some reason, I can't deal with the LITTLE little carrots; the ones that are really skinny or abnormally short. They scare me. Carrots should NOT be that size. Today, I was checking my mailbox, and I had mail (yea!), so, naturally, i opened it up. My loving roommate had sent me a print-out of some carrot company's procedures of how they go about making their baby carrots. I didn't know what to think about that...I confided my vulnerabilities in my roommate, and this is how she responds, by exploiting me. (Just kidding, Janeen!) People have told me countless times that the miniscule carrots are the "sweetest" ones. Like that makes me feel better about things! I mean, come on! Is a carrot supposed to be sweet? Is that grounds for me to eat a tiny carrot? No, emphatically not. My sister, Kalee, looks out for me, though. She usually takes care of the little ones for me. Usually...Sometimes she throws them at me, or tries to sneak them on to my plate. It's a give-and-take relationship: she is afraid of ladybugs, and I fear baby carrots. Anyways, I don't like the tiny carrots. I loathe them. I detest them. I fear them. To me, a carrot has no business being that small. Is that weird?