Once my coffee kicks in, I’m going to clean this morning, then have lunch with writing pal Kait Nolan as she drives through town. Then I head to the lake to spend time with my parents and Rader. Ian has returned from his week-long trip in Dallas. I’ve missed him terribly, but he’s not going to the lake with us this weekend. At 15, he’s just too cool for that kinda thing.

In other news, I’m really sad about Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson, but I have to say, I’m really irritated at the media for spending so much time on MJ’s death. Farrah battled cancer for three years and did it with dignity and grace. Growing up, I didn’t know any girl who didn’t wanna be her, and I didn’t know any boy who didn’t wanna do her.

I stared at this poster every morning for years. I went blond, feathered my hair, and bought a red bathing suit. I never quite got there, but I wanted it.

Most people remember Farrah from Charlie’s Angels, but I remember her from Logan’s Run. As a matter of fact, I had a Logan’s Run beach towel.

RIP Farrah. I’ll always be a fan.