06.13.02 - 2:59 p.m.

Dear Cartoon Network,

Thanks for the ads you've been posting throughout New York City. It makes me so happy to see the Powerpuff Girls fighting crime on my Path train, Brak staring down at me from the subway, Space Ghost riding atop a cab, and Meatwad stuck to the side of a bus. Really. It makes my day. Thank you for sparing me from mindlessly memorizing the stupid Iron Monkey restaurant's ad copy. Why would I be worried about my "own damn menu" when I can gaze upon Bubbles' cute face? On behalf of all those who actually watch Adult Swim and know about these characters enough to laugh and have a better commute, I salute you.

So this morning on the subway, I saw a Powerpuff movie poster and started thinking of how we really are the Girls' human equivalents. I'm so Blossom, saying, "ok, this is what we're going to do" and obsessively planning the best course of action. Bassett is all "cunty cunt, I'll kick you!" like Buttercup while falling in love with a prickly cute hedgehog, and Moomy is Bubbles chirping "what, what?" and suddenly deciding to eat chick peas.

I don't know what I'm talking about. I have a cough. My boyfriend is depressed and I can't help him. I can sing Monty Python and bake him some homemade mac and cheese, but don't know what to do about finding him a new job. I just hope my own new one works out.

Ben Folds is playing tonight at Roseland but I don't think I have the strength to go. It's the Ben and a Piano tour which should be amazing (say it like Felicity: amaaaayzing) but I think sleep would be more helpful in the long run. Instead of staying up to install my scanner like I did last night. While singing Monty Python to Dan on the phone while he asked, "Don't you have a fever?" I do! I'm delirious! Someone put me to bed and feed me soup!

Only a day and a half left of this insanity. I'm starting to be outright mean to solicitors. Which is not completely unnatural for me, but I try to be polite when everyone can overhear. I don't care anymore. I'm not even going to be nice to the non-English-speaking delivery men. Rebellion! Bwah!

Oh, and I do love John A. and I really super duper love my baby sister, but Scary-Go-Round is just not as good as Bobbins. Maybe I need time to work into it, but there is a scraggly British hole in my heart that even Len and Cecil cannot fill.