I have to talk to you about my niece Katherine and her relationship with Sesame Street's Elmo. Katherine thinks Elmo is her boyfriend. She hangs on his every word. She pines for him when he's not around. He is often the first thing she thinks about in the morning. Katherine is in love with Elmo.

This is an amazing and amusing thing. Basically everything related to that baby - she, being the cutest baby in the world - is that way. It's the most fascinating thing about very small children, in my opinion. They just get to DO stuff. And it's always okay. Everything is cute. Everything is acceptable. Babies have it made, man. I want to throw things at my boss, insist that other people give me their food, and say no more readily, but I can't. Babies can. It's a racket.

Elmo is also fascinating. Introduced in the mid-1980s to tap into the pre-school viewership psyche more directly (Big Bird being a kindergarten aged four, and therefore a little too grown up to appeal), Elmo is by far Sesame Street's most recognizable and popular monster. I'm slightly sad that Katherine, at 21.5 months, isn't more discerning in her tastes (I admit, I want her to show off her individuality) but at the same time, I have to concede that Elmo is pretty hilarious and adorable.

For those of you who don't know, "Elmo is an furry, red Muppet monster with an orange nose. He currently hosts the last full segment on Sesame Street, called "Elmo's World," which is aimed at toddlers. On "Elmo's World," Elmo is accompanied by his goldfish, Dorothy, and the Noodle Family—Mr. Noodle, his brother (known as Mr. Noodle's brother, Mr. Noodle), and his sister (known as Mr. Noodle's sister, Ms. Noodle).

The character is self-described as 3-and-a-half years old, and refers to himself in the third person. He is seen somewhat infrequently with a favorite toy of his: an orange, monster-like doll named David. Elmo lives with his mommy, his daddy, and an occasionally appearing sister named Daisy." (From the Facebook Fan Page ... yes, such a thing exists).

My favourite bit is the bit about the Noodles. They often "use their noodles" to figure things out. That's comic gold, if you ask me.

Anyway. When I talk about this stuff, or wax on about the baby, people tend to wrongly assume I myself am baby crazy. I am not baby crazy. Not even close. I am fascinated by other people's babies, because (as already mentioned) babies are a racket. Besides that, babies seem to like me and if you know me you know that there are few things I like more than people liking me (I'm so pathetic), but the thought of having my own creepy, parasitic monster makes me want to do tequilla shots. Fact.

I just wanted to tell you about Katherine and Elmo because. Because. That's my reason. It's a love story for the ages. Elmo and Bean: the new Jack and Rose. I love it.

Auntie Jenny

Sometimes I take a lot break from the whole blogging thing because there's too much to write about. It's rare that there's too little. The thing is, real stuff isn't really good material for a blog. (And certainly not a blah-og.) The medium lends itself better to the pithy. The useless. The trite. If I have anything of substance to say, I generally leave it out. The substantive don't sell, yo.

So. What's new in the land of the utterly unsubstantive? Lots.

I returned to my gig as an MTV After Show friend last Thursday night and will be appearing again this evening. I'll post those links on the TV page once I have them.

I've been reading a lot. I received a number of books for Christmas and they'll be showing up in the booklog as I work my way through. So far, I haven't hit a dud. They've all been good. The one I'm reading right now is called The Corrections. I like it even though I sort of hate the character in present focus. It's odd that such a thing can happen.

Work is all consuming. Teaching is unbelievably difficult and I find myself constantly struggling to manage my overfull schedule. This generally leaves me exhausted and angry come evening time which is not, I assure you, doing wonders for my social life. I fantasize about joining the circus. I have dark circles under my eyes. I've NEVER had dark circles under my eyes before. Never. I assumed my skin tone would save me from that particular charming feature of aging. Not so. Grey hairs meet dark circles. Welcome, all.

I had a dream last night in which I encountered both of my most evil exes at a restaurant at the same time. In the dream I had a panic attack. Who DREAMS panic attacks? Who? Considering that I am the wronged party, this is what the kiddies would call no fair. This coming week I have plans to meet up with two other exes as it happens (look at me, stacking up the x factor), but neither of those dudes is evil. So I don't see why I'm dreaming about Fuck Face and Douchy McDoucherson. I say again: no fair.

I'm actually terribly sad today, but hey. As discussed, that's not for the blah-og. And anyway, you know what tomorrow has? No mistakes in it. That's what.

This is 2009. I'm writing off most of the past ten years, actually. The "Ohs" as we might eventually call them. The decade that went.