Oh, and the baby brother orsister thing. That's pretty cool, too. Though I'd prefer it if my momwould let the doctor tell her what it is she's having, so I don't haveto keep writing brother or sister all the time. Mom says shedoesn't want to know,

since if it's a boy she won't push, due to not wanting to bring anotherY-chromosomed oppressor into the world (Mr G says that is just thehormones talking, but I'm not so sure. My mom can be pretty anti-Ychromosome when she puts her mind to it).

I can't help wondering, as I sithere, listening to some dude whose title I don't know — although in hispurple and gold sash

he looks a little like Mayor McCheese - go on about the cost ofparking-garage time clocks, not to mention parking-garage attendants,what lies in store for me in the coming year. I mean, last year I got:

a.  a crown

b.  a new stepdad

c.  a potential baby brotheror sister, and

d. a handsome, smart, funny boyfriend . . . my heart's one desire.

Sunday, January 3,

Royal Genovian Rose Garden

Poemfor M. M.

Across the deep-blue shining sea,