Today is a beautiful day, for many reasons�my ridiculous, disheveled hairdo; the finches that are building a nest in the canvas canopy over my balcony; the heavy equipment and hard-hatted construction workers across the street; the single strand of spider web catching flashes of sunlight on the railing outside; and the imminent release of the new Jimi Hendrix energy drink. In honor of these things, and many more, too many to name, I have decided to reject the �spray, delay, walk away� policy of perfume application in favor of the more liberal and celebratory �spray, and spray, and spray away� approach.

What else am I celebrating? My joy over deciphering a custom license plate that read H8TER B8 on the highway. I get it�because his car, which may have been a Cadillac, is so fancy, it acts as bait! For haters! Mental challenges like these keep the brain strong and prevent Alzheimer�s�just another goal for 2007 that I can check off my list.

And, speaking of lists, which I was�hence this clever transition�Monday�s insecurity over some insensitive comments sent me on a stroll down repressed memory lane. Several years ago, during a visit to my grandmother, I went to use the bathroom before I got in the car to head back home, and caught a glimpse of my own name in a notebook left on the counter. I paused to see why she�d written my name, and discovered a list, with the heading PLUMPNESS. Along with my name were several others; people my grandmother apparently considered to have gained weight. I had, actually, gained a little weight, about which I was already unhappy, but the sudden realization that someone had not only noticed, but written it down in order to remember, sent me into a fit of anxiety and self-hatred that lingers to this day despite (or due to) oceans of iced vodka and vials of Ativan. Clearer thinking (and stronger self-esteem) would have allowed me to write my own list, perhaps titled JUDGMENTALNESS or CRITICALNESS and, after writing down my grandmother's name, left it somewhere that she could find it, say, next to her own list of plumpness, after crossing out my own name.

I'm baffled by the lengths to which friends and loved ones sometimes go to register disapproval. Don�t these people know that those thoughts should be kept to themselves until such time as they can be transferred to a blog and shared, pseudonymously, with the world? Perhaps Hallmark can start a line of cards. I just wanted to make sure you know I think something negative about you. I know several people who would be loyal customers. You might be smart, but the only thing that really matters about you is your weight, one might say, or, We�ve been talking about how your lack of focus keeps you from getting out of that dead-end job. Naturally, I have all these cards already in my head, but a written reminder, suitable for framing, would ensure daily reinforcement.

You used to be so enthusiastic about your art, but now you just sit around the house. And then, on the inside, That�s probably why you can�t get a decent man. It�s better to use the word �we,� because that implies group disapproval. We think that�s why you can�t get a decent man would be superior, in this case. Or, alternately, We all wish you�d get off your ass and find a decent man, but that�s probably asking too much.

This whole line of thought is so distressing. I wish I had some of that new Jimi Hendrix energy drink�Liquid Experience, it�s called�to get me through. Too bad it doesn�t hit the stores until April. Doesn�t it sound good, though? Liquid Experience. The name contains so many levels of disturbing resonance�Choke to death on Liquid Experience! Still a virgin? A little Liquid Experience�ll cure what ails ya!

The press release I read on it contained a quote from Flea, bassist for Red Hot Chili Peppers, who I guess is a Hendrix expert based on, among other things, his tattoo of Jimi Hendrix�s face. Flea said, �To see his image and the beautiful feelings it has created during my lifetime cheapened by base advertising ... is very disappointing to me." I agree with the general sentiment, but balk at the inclusion of the phrase �during my lifetime.� Flea�s lifespan seems irrelevant to the subject, so that phrase appears to be the signature of someone accustomed to relating all subjects to himself�an unpleasant side-effect of celebrity, along with the tendency to believe that all statements one utters are worthy of note. (Says me, writing in my public diary, says me, says me, says me!)

Star of the day. . .Michael Balzary