To that sweet woman who wrote a letter to the editor a few weeks ago saying that you love me and want to have my baby: Are you still quite sure about that? I'm usually never awake at that time but for some reason -- I think I was awakened by the new Corey B. Trotz television commercial with a symphony orchestra and an opera singer singing his jingle (which, by the way, I think is brilliant) -- I got up and waddled through the house and noticed one of my two new kittens tearing up newspapers all over the floor -- all by himself. I thought it was rather odd, so after surveying the usual hiding places to no avail, I figured little Snake had found herself a new hiding place, and, boy, had she. I am just so relieved that she's okay and that she didn't choose to dart into the freezer while I wasn't looking. And speaking of freezers, does it seem to anyone else that the Winter Olympics have been going on for about three months now? Sheesh. And I have to admit, I've grown to hate them. For one thing, there are far too many white people mixed up in it. You know that when there are few or no black people involved in something like that, it has to be boring as hell. Except, of course, for that he-man of all sports: curling. The ice sweeping. Hazel on crack. Big curly men. As a good friend of mine pointed out the other day, any drunk who can play a decent game of shuffleboard at Miller's Cave could win a gold medal in that game. I'd love to invite them to come curl around with those brooms at my house. I can assure you it would be a great deal more taxing on them than running up and down that little patch of ice. And you wonder why the Islamic extremists hate the West so much. Speaking of which: Is the Bush administration really going to allow an Arab company to control six of our major ports? Is this actually happening??? No one who knows me would accuse me of being overly patriotic. I don't wear red-white-and-blue sweaters on July 4th and I don't boycott products that aren't made here in Amurika, but really. Was it impossible to find a company in the United States that could do the job? Oh, well. Whatever. It makes no difference to me. I'm too obsessed with watching the bad-weather closings on the bottom of the television screen to be worried about safe ports. One poor woman posted the cancellation of her wedding, no less. Wouldn't you like to be around that family? And I was deeply saddened to see that the Jay-Lo Gym in Horn Lake had to halt classes when the ice hit. I just hope the Positive Changes hypnosis clinic didn't have to close. Have you seen their commercial with the woman talking about how much energy she now has, and her eyes keep closing while she talks? Hmmm. My real obsession, though, has been with the idea of calling in closings of my own. "The 43rd Annual Gay Baptist Summit at Bellevue Baptist Church: Postponed." Who would know it wasn't for real? Well, other than the folks at the church, who probably wouldn't take real kindly to it. "The Dick Cheney Skeet Shoot at Shelby Forest: Closed ... but not because of the weather." Oh, okay. Enough about the Dick and his gun accident. Even I have some shred of pity for him in a strange way. Don't get me wrong; I still think he is evil incarnate, but not because he accidentally shot that man. If I can accidentally lock my own sweet little kitten in the refrigerator, anything is possible. But I wouldn't want to get on the ice and go curling with him. One accidental whack to the head with one of those curling brooms, and I might not think it's such a goofy game after all. Well, yeah, I would.