I have failed as a mother. Rebecca asked me to order tickets for a Hilary Duff concert and I forgot and now there are no tickets available. Maybe she'll forget. Otherwise I'm going to have to spring for tickets to West Palm Beach to see the show there.

This is on top of telling her to send me the web page where the phone she wants for Christmas is located because I had too much work to do to stop and look with her. My parenting license is about to be revoked.

This morning I woke up at 5:00, not by the cats, but by the fierce winds raging outside. Sounded like a hurricane. There were leaves and plastic bags and other lightweight detritus flying around all day - rather like watching the tornado scenes from The Wizard of Oz.

Tomorrow evening I get to go to a restaurant in the city called LaCroix that I've been salivating to eat at for some time. Of course I do have to entertain a client and just started the South Beach Diet, so there could be better circumstances, but I'll enjoy it anyway after a week of eggs, bacon, and lots and lots of grilled chicken.