Perhaps it's just because I'm celebrating Courteney Cox, but I've had a slight case of the blahs of late--perhaps too subtle for you to notice. I'm the secretive type. However, the blahs end today!

There are few more effective cures for the blahs than placing a sparkly tiara atop one's head, and I think that goes for all of us, male, female, or other. Happily, I received such a tiara in the mail recently, from the Magnificent Lady Hiss and it has really improved my outlook. I did not have the foresight to wear it to the office today, or I'd include a photo of it here. Upon opening the box, I placed it immediately atop my head, where it stayed, tangled in my hair, throughout my trip to Target (for an accordion file) and then to the post office (to mail a contract for a freelance writing job). I believe my tiara and I made a convincing Queen of the Sea, there in the home office supplies aisle, and only the threat of rain and lack of umbrella necessitated its removal from my regal rats'-nest of hair.

And as if to prove that raining is pouring, I received a gigantic envelope from The Dedly Smedly, containing six custom mix CDs, each more fascinating than the last. The bounty enlivened this morning's commute with, among others, Loudon Wainwright III's "Dead Skunk," The Osmonds' "Hold Her Tight," and the best song ever written: "Moulty," by the Barbarians--a story-song narrated in a marked Massachusetts accent by Moulty, the one-handed drummer of the group, spinning the inspiring yarn of his perseverence following an accident with a home-made pipe-bomb. Rock and roll!

The last song on that disc was "Every 1's a Winner," by Hot Chocolate--long-beloved by me for its ability to conjure up a kind of coke-infused, swirling disco Lycra-fest I was too young to ever see. But hearing the song started me thinking about another Hot Chocolate hit, "You Sexy Thing," and how awesome it would be to play it with my band, although the suggestion would be instantly shouted down. Still, it would be awesome.

Later, at work, I came across a review of a Pixies show I'd attended several years ago in Boston, with my great date who was in the opening band and whose hotness in bed allowed me to ignore our many-year age difference. Anyway, the review mentioned that after the show, Kim Deal had gone over the bridge to Cambridge to sit in with another band, where she did a girly-voiced version of "You Sexy Thing." Mmm-hm! Let's see if it gets shouted down, now!

Anyway, later still in the day, the Keelhauler surprised me with a sort of delicate bouquet from the sea, via his picture-phone:

He knows I have a red coral fetish, and kindly accomodates it.

And I found two jobs online that I wish to apply for, and it's Friday, and I have five more Smed CDs to listen to, so all in all, things could be a lot worse.

A lot.

Star of the day. . .Moulty!