I nearly lost this entire post. Thank you, copy and paste.

Sometimes I do forget that this whole thing started out as a journal of my thoughts.

Not that I really think it doesn't anymore. It's just that reading what Luis wrote on his blog reminded me of what drew me to blogging in the first place. He really put himself out there. In one nine-part post he covers topics like death, life, love, friendships found, friendships lost, family, and even religion.

I must say that I am very proud of him.

I am also aware that he has written about a lot of the same things I have, and even one I've been reluctant to discuss.

I remember saying earlier that I would feel better if Luis read my blog (which he has, and does, but he has already learned to skip down until he sees a name he recognizes.) I thought it would make him feel less insecure and alone, they way I felt when I was his age (okay, so I still feel that way now, but at least now it's within a constructive context.)

What I didn't expect was for his blog to have that exact effect on me.

I do enjoy surprises.

This afternoon I was showing him how to check his comments. He was pretty excited when I explained that people out there were reading what he had written and seemed to like it.

Then I showed him how to check his e-mail account.

After he saw that, he wanted to go check his comments again.

Sometimes that boy is so much like me it's scary.

After re-reading them, he resolved to write his next post for a girl he called "Megan." He said he would have it done by tonight so that I could edit it when I got home, but I don't see it anywhere. I don't think I'll bother him about it. He'll learn what happens when you don't post. Soon he will be far more wary about incurring the wrath of Jaden and Molly. Heh heh.

Luis wanted to show Mom his blog when she got home. "NO!" I gently advised him, "I wouldn't tell Mom about it if I were you. It will give you more...freedom to write. What if you want to write about throwing your sexy parties?"

"I can write about anything?" he asked with a sly look in his eye.

"...Yes, of course," I answered hesitantly.

"Even if I want to write about having sex with 16 year old girls?" He howled with laughter.

Kids. They test you every chance they get.

"Yes," I said grudgingly. "You can do whatever you want."

This is what I meant about trying to get him to watch less television. Curse you, Jerry Springer! I discourage his television watching, but I don't restrict it. If I had my way I would get rid of the television entirely. The whole family turned on me when I suggested removing the television and entertainment center and converting the living room into a library.

That's how I approach problems like that, though. My mom admonishes Luis for drinking too much soda and eating too many sweets. I tell her not to buy them. She balks at that idea since she is a soda drinker and has a sweet tooth as well.

Ah, well. There are worse things than Springer and sugar. Not many, though.

Journalism class went well. The real Advice Girl showed up after being absent for two weeks. She sat at one of the computers (we all do in that class) and she engrossed herself with whatever was on the screen for the rest of the hour. She didn't say a single word the whole time. Class ended and she just dashed out.

I'm guessing she didn't have the articles that were due.

My father was varnishing the cabinets and I was in the kitchen eating a quesadilla. Someone had stuck a piece of paper on the refrigerator that read: "He whom God loves best He afflicts the most, and his love is proportioned to the crosses He sends them."

I said it aloud as I read it. "Wow, Dad," I ribbed, "God must really love you."

"Don't I know it?" he chuckled, not looking up from his work. "Sometimes I can't believe how much God loves me!"

In the corner of the paper it also had a picture of an elephant and read: "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."

Now that makes real sense.

Elephants are good eatin'.

Oh, the police showed up this afternoon as I was leaving for work. Their coming was foretold by my mother as she pulled into the driveway, finally home from work.

I guess she had seen them around the corner dealing with some unrelated incident. (This should tell you something about our neighborhood.) She had stopped, told them about my car getting broken into and that the police had said they would show up on Saturday and then they never did. She got them to follow her to our house, where I was standing, keys in hand, about to go to work.

The officer was still in training. I knew he was just an officer (as opposed to sergeant or something) because on his shoulder he had only one chevron (a chevron looks like this: ^ ).

I knew he was in training because below his chevron there was gold embroidery that said "Officer-In-Training." I shoulda been a detective.

I told him what had happened; that they had broken the window but hadn't gotten the stereo. He made a disgusted face. "Some people!"

"There are all kinds," I responded, forsaking Jem Finch's social philosophy.

"Ain't that the truth."

He offered to dust for fingerprints, but I told him not to worry about it since I had to get to work. I had my digital camera with me and I contemplated asking him to pretend to zap me with his tazer gun so that I could get a picture of it. Alas, there was no time. Blame my work for denying this entry a photo. Oh, and my laziness.

Oh, and blame my not wanting to get "accidentally" zapped by a tazer and temporarily lose all control of my bodily functions.

After work a bunch of us from work played volleyball. I was there much later than I intended to be.

I've noticed not a lot of things going as planned lately, or for that matter, ever.

I guess the moral for tonight is that every day life hits you with a hundred different reminders of what's really important. You just have to pay attention.

So tonight I go to bed tired and knowing there is no possible way I can get enough sleep, insecure about myself and my future, lonely and unloved, feeling as insignificant as a grain of sand trying to stop the ocean.

Tomorrow I will wake up to school assignments being due, more work, more weariness, a car with no window...

And I've never been happier.