I did not get busy with issue that had so filled me with a sense of frustration . Why? Because I'm lazy, and because the little sordid details of life took over. I went to the lovely doctor who keeps my mental illness in check (see profile, one of the details I worked on today), to get meds, who thinks that I was raised by wolves.

He's not alone in this opinion. My therapist, best friend and other assorted freaks happen to agree. Why did this come up? Well, the aged parents were in NYC this weekend, to meet with some old business partners. (They, as some older people like to do, have buggered off to Florida, for their golden years.) The last time I saw them was.......well.....years ago. My (estranged) sister and her newish husband live in the city, so were included in the 'rental plans. Me, not so much. Not. At all. In fact, I have been so excluded from their lives, that the very idea of even suggesting that I hop on a bus to meet them did not even cross my mind.

Whilst I talk to my mother almost daily, it would seem that the very idea of seeing me would take immense preparations. To whit: a couple of months ago, I tossed out the idea of coming to visit them. While they are quite thrilled with their fit and sparten life, I have been putting off silly stuff like watching my weight and excercise for some time. My psyche meds and greed have packed on more than one hundred pounds. This year I started to work it off, and so far have lost twenty-five of them, somewhere. That's when I made the call.

Oddly, it was not met with great shouts of encouragement from the mum. After a delicate pause, it was put to me that I couldn't come "just yet". My therapist wonders whether I am hurt by this. I have long ceased this business of the family as keepers of my heart. One has to find them elsewhere, when needed. If your sister will not see you or talk to you because your mental illness is too much, then you have a period of hurt, confusion and then mourning, as if she has died. I think my parents are quietly terrified of how sick I am, and maybe to an extent, how open and honest I am.

Speaking of which. Spitzer, the ole hypocrite that he was, was rousted from his position, as he should have been. Now, call me all sorts of names, but I still do NOT understand how this "DC Madam" managed to land in jail. Not one of her politician clients was called on to testify. Now, do you remember that English actor of hangdog talent Hugh Grant? Caught in a car with a prostitute? How flabbergasted everyone was? When Jay Leno (can't stand him) scored the first interview? Hugh Grant is a bloody actor for crying out loud, and everyone was going mad cow because he'd cheated on Elizabeth Hurley. Actors are entertainers. Like rock stars. You expect them to do things that are strange, over the top and even morally reprehensible. Just look at Paris Hilton and the very scary Tom Cruise. It's weird when they do things right. Except, for example, Jolie and Bono. I guess I'll just finish by saying that I am deeply confused about the apparent lack of concern that local law enforcement has toward punishing the very public "johns" of the case in DC case. Why is this?