Excuse me, I'm being witchy...

Wednesday was one of the best days ever. For the first time in a month, both kids were healthy and I could drop their cute little butts off at school. What would I do with five hours of uninterrupted alone time? I predictably ended up at my favorite thrift store, of course.

While perusing CDs, I came across a child's tale called "Baba Yaga". It's a Russian fairytale about a little girl named Vasalisa who, after being nice to a cat, a dog, a tree and a gate, is saved from the evil witch, Baba Yaga. It seemed perfect for my little Scooby Doo fan and fairy tale princess. It wasn't a traditionally marketed CD. No production house or fancy cover, but for $2.99, I could be a sport.

Let me tell you - it turned out to be an amazingly orchestrated tale with awesome sound effects. The witch, by far, was the best character on there. I kept listening to this actress cackle and howl and sing and thought, "Wow, there's a reason I write and don't act. I could NEVER do that. She is gooooood."

Cut to Thursday. I pull up to a friend's house in Pasadena. She is actually a woman who used to produce the show I wrote for. Think Barbie at 45. She became a mother for the third time a few years ago when her brother, before landing in jail, got a girl pregnant. Word on the street is that moms addicted to drugs aren't the best parents, so Barbie, an avid Scientologist, took over. She also recently got married. So now in addition to being a writer, producer, and new wife, she's a mom.

What is so interesting to me is that while we always liked each other, we probably wouldn't be hanging out if it weren't for her son. But motherhood is the equalizer. 5'3 barbie doll mom? 6'1 shellpy blogger? It's all the same when you're wiping ass.

So I show up, and say, "Pipsqueak, tell Barbie about the witch you're listening to in the car..." and before I can finish, Barbie says, "Baba Yaga?"

I couldn't believe it. "Yes! How did you know! That's so random!"

Barbie: "That's my best friend, Penny Wiggin's project. She made that 8 years ago when she was broke living in Hollywood."

Now is that a small world or what?

So of course, Barbie calls Pennie, who cackles into the phone for my kids, "Hellooo, little dumpling balllllls! Are you being good or do I need to eat you!!!!!!"

My kids, who will have a conversation with a washer/dryer, would not go near that phone. "Get her off!" they shrieked, running for cover under the birch tree.

Barbie and I laugh, then go on to compliment Penny, telling her that it is the best CD ever. It's true. So much talent! Penny is so thrilled. Now an actress doing very well at a Las Vegas vaudeville show, she's ecstatic to see that her early years were not wasted.

"Where did she find the cd?" she asked Barbie.

"At the bargains bin at the local Salvation Army!" Barbie answers.

That probably wasn't what Penny wanted to hear, but she was happy non the less. Hollywood gives you a thick skin that way.

Any whooo, how weird, and convoluted, is that story? I mean, is that a coincidence or what?

Besides that strangeness, I've been working a lot, babysitting in my off-hours for a few friends. I'm hoping to go on vacation later in the year, paint my walls, organize my closets, lose 5 pounds (really... gonnna knock it out this time) and spend more time with Rex. I'm also attempting to not computerize while I'm with the kids, and it's working out okay, but not perfectly. So far, though, they still love me and don't want to trade up for another mom. I mean, who else would drag their butts to Disneyland on a Tuesday and have more fun than them? Oh, let's not forget I'm going to re-do my look. Because I'm tired of the unibrow, stringy hair do. Worked for Sissy Spacek, but not for me.

I'm not an overachiever or anything, am I?

How are you all??????