The older I get, the more stuff I use on my skin and my face, in particular. Antibiotics to prevent acne (mid-forties and this is *still* a problem for me), anti-eczema cream for the tiny spots on the sides of my nose where my reading glasses sit and irritate my skin, glycolic acid which allegedly repairs sun damage (from a previous dermatologist who was shedding her regular patients in favor of those who only wanted cosmetic treatments), and a special salve for around my eyes (to minimize those old farty wrinkles, as Rebecca calls them; from the woman at the salon who gave me a facial, which almost made me have a panic attack because of the steam that was blown at my face while it was swathed in a heavy towel). This doesn't count the Eucerin I slather all over while still in the shower, nor the Neutrogena that goes on my hands and feet, nor the Mary Kay Silken Hands or some such nonsense that contains a set of four preparations that must be used in a precise order to derive any benefit. Needless to say, this last one is used with notable infrequency.

Exercise: I had to help carry in the new TV I bought today. It was at least 20 feet from the car into the house and it must weight close to 100 pounds. It will remain there in the little butler's pantry, waiting for the lugging up the steps, to be accompanied by much moaning and profanity.

Books: Finished Scott Free by John Gilstrap. Decent adventure type story, though of rather movie-of-the-week caliber. Scenes from the potential movie kept playing through my head. Bette Midler as the bitchy pop-psychologist mom, Kevin Kline as the sensitive dad, and some unknown but intensely attractive (think Jake Gyllenhaal minus 5 years) teenager to play the son. On to Blessings by Anna Quindlen.

Music: None. Though Warren Zevon's cover of Knockin' on Heaven's Door is in pretty heavy rotation on XPN, and I did hear a couple of tracks from Gillian Welch's new CD. Which led me to go seek out the previews of a few of the songs on that CD, Soul Journey. A must-buy-soon selection.

Movies: Terminator 3. Loud, violent, better than I expected. Although there were a few shots that reminded me of rejects from the original Star Trek (a scene of the desert early in the movie, with extraordinarily fake looking tumbleweeds). Heavy-handedly set up for yet another sequel.

Cats: They're still shedding enough to provide carpeting for a dozen birds' nests a day. Hercules is getting that odd fur condition along his spine that leads to mats. He continues to torment poor Tabitha, who really just wants to know why we can't all get along.

Other: It seems as if I see 11:11 on a digital clock somewhere almost every day. Why does that time always seem to draw my attention to a clock? Or is it just some twisted quirk of my imagination?