2002-01-17 - 12:26 a.m.
�I�ll be your saint�and I�ll wear a halo�and I�ll perform miracles�if you want me to stoop that low��
So today�s annoyingly unaffordable compulsory purchase was a Christening present. Great. Some friends decide to set their mewling little pink sack of genes on the way to salvation and suddenly I have to go without quality cheese for the week. That pans out nicely for some � ie. the ones faking godliness because it means by happy chance they land themselves presents enough to make sure they don�t have to buy baby clothes for six months and can with the savings gorge themselves on quality cheese as they brush up on what the ten commandments actually are. Well try this for size brethren; Thou shalt not cynically exploit outmoded traditions with the express intent of finagling romper suits. Or whatever it is you�re supposed to buy.
Me? I went with the first thing I could see that didn�t involve me entering a baby shop. It turned out to be the imaginatively titled �Baby Book�, which was handily near the erotic calendar selection in Borders. The �Baby Book� is a portal for chronologically recording the progress of your futile stab at immortality, or �baby�, as the �book� would have it. Hence we have sections for baby�s first photos, baby�s first words, baby�s first symptoms of urinary tract infection, etc, etc. There�s also a family tree page (not legally admissible as evidence in paternity suits) and some blank pages for baby�s first ham-fisted scrawls, which I assume can be psychoanalysed later for anti-social tendencies or gender misalignment. Given the seemingly religious background the parents are bafflingly intent on giving it, I was also hoping for �Baby�s first cardinal sin� or �Baby�s first blind acceptance of an abhorrent papal ruling�, but alas, there was just more room for photos, and a lock of hair (should you need to garner some DNA in a future freak cloning experiment I assume).
Maybe I should be born again and ask for cheese at my re-Christening.
�Let me sink my eyes�Down into your holy mine�And come and lay me down�Down, down with your cross to bear�I'll be your saint�I'll be your sinner
Meanwhile, back in the cruel joke that parades around calling itself my career, I�m trying to write something about this land we call Diary. And I need your help, you crazy kids.
Basically, I�d like to hear from anyone who would be willing to answer questions, however anonymously, about their journal. I�ve got three ideas. One involves anyone living in America, one involves anyone living in London, and one involves anyone who is (inadequate label alert) gay or bisexual. If you fall into one or more of these categories, and you don�t mind me e-bugging you for a short while, please leave me a message or mail me. I thank you.
�I'll be your word, I'll be your life, I'll be your heart, I'll be your lights, I will be�I'll be word, I'll be love, I'll be heart, I'll be your god, I'll be anything you want�anything that you want��
