My mom spent the last few days in the hospital. Her pesky little ticker was acting up on her again. A few days of no rest and lousy food and she’s home, good as new. I spoke to her this morning and she said she was off to buy stamps for her Christmas cards. She is one of those folks who is diligent about sending them out. She’s annoyed that her hospital visit got in the way of getting them out on time.

I have always assumed that her commitment to Christmas cards is to share the spirit of the holidays with her friends and family, especially those who live far away.

I am sure that spreading holiday cheer is my mom’s primary motivation. But there is another.

“When you get to be my age, you have to send out Christmas cards. Otherwise people think you died.”

Ho Ho Ho.

I found this website where Joan will be able to marry me off for a specified price. You and the rest of the family could take that dream vacation to Italy while I clean the house for my brand new husband!

Here’s the link.

Okay, but seriously now. I cannot for the life of me think that this is real. But now that I think of it, I do know a surprising number of “women” my age who are engaged. Well, only two. But at 19, that’s still crazy.

Joan, I’m sure thinking about this makes you want that long relaxing vacation to Italy more than ever…tempted?

I haven’t been feeling well lately, but thank god I’m not President William H. Taft.

P.S. — Joan, I am beating you by so much when it comes to finding this kind of stuff. C’mon! Get on it!

And it might be the perfect example of that annoying phrase “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” (i.e. — when you’re a big name director and McCain asks you to make an attack add, you make it as ridiculous as possible)

As Holloween appraches, and it has become clear to me that my metabolism is no longer unbeatable, I have decided to start “dieting.”

This is a recent decision. As in, last night. Even still, I have already stopped myself from consuming a tall java chip frapachino with extra whip cream, a strawberry milk, and the 4 croutons that fell out of my salad and on to the floor.

I am proud of myself, but also hungry. And unhappy. Why am I doing this? Would I be happier with a chocolatey blended drink in my hand? Or am I just craving what I cannot have?

The truth is, both. Here is what I just spent the last half an hour crying over.

I have not told my parents yet. Nor have I told Ross that I’m dying it back to brown. As I type this.

Here’s a picture of me and my friend Arvid (pronounced Ah-vid). We were studying (pronounced pro-crast-in-ating)

Joan — have you ever done something like this? I’m sure you have… Please tell me you have.

So much excitement at our house last night.   Eileen and I went to Hofstra University for the debate.

But unlike watching in your own home where you can gasp, shout, laugh, mock and throw things,  audience members at Hofstra have to behave themselves.  I decided it was a small price to pay for the privilege of being there.  More on this at joangarry.com

But I needed the opportunity to express some things.  I just had to.  This is where Scout came in.

She was in a school dorm drinking champagne and watching the debate with a group of students (who were, I might add, all registered to vote). I know about the champagne because I was so excited to be at the debate that I called her to brag.  She asked if she could call me back once she left the liquor store.

So we settled in for the debate in Hempstead and Scout poured herself a glass of champagne.  And we began texting.

A few excerpts:

J:   How does it appear to be going on tv?

S:   Well, if McCain were telling the truth at all, he’d be impressive.

S:   McCain is getting nasty.

S:  Obama wants him to look at him

J:  Can’t see. Tall man in front of me.  Probably Republican.

S:  The pin stripe suit is wrong.  Looks like a banker.  Bad to look like a banker.

J   Did he just say “Bresh of freth air?”

S  Obama was brilliant – McCain has nothing now that Ayers is behind him.

S:  McCain looks stoned.

J:  “Cockamamy?”  Did McCain just call one of Obama’s ideas “cockamamy?”

J:  My mother uses that word.   Oh right, she is old too.

S:   Right now, Joe is soooo embarrassed.

J:   Hey - thought Obama’s close was strong

S:  Oh, I’m like not even listening anymore…

So I’m sitting here in class, clearly not listening to the debate we’re having on stem cells. No one in my class if pro life, so it’s a very boring argument. Everyone feels the need to repeat one another. And I hate repetition.

Here’s what I am paying attention to.

This is going to be Joan in 20 years.

So, before Joan could post this herself, I decided to take the opportunity to beat her to it…

…And show off on her behalf.