When your mother and I entered the theater, I caught an enchanting whiff of her hair. It turned out that I was actually hallucinating in the bathroom

It's common knowledge that creating and maintaining a MySpace page is the raison d'etre of every rational man and woman. MySpace provides an outlet through which people can express themselves in a way far more profound than anything possible within the framework of mere face-to-face meetings. Such luminaries as Lindsay Lohan and Former United States President Franklin Pierce use it after all. I daresay that the invention of the internets would have been in vain if MySpace hadn't been created.

It's a funny thing about sarcasm...oh, actually I forgot what I was going to say about it. Anyway, some people, I'm sure, who don't think they can find "their type of people" there. I can sympathize. I have a (now thankfully neglected, for the most part) MySpace, but I always felt that my caterpillar wasn't finding the coccoons it needed to emerge as a beautiful butterfly there. I longed for somewhere in the internet community where my humble seedling could bed among the dirt clods it needed to blossom into pungent flowers. But where could I go if I wanted my pile of decomposing plant matter to find the additional decomposing plant matter of the same type it needed to spontaneously combust into a raging inferno?

I found a place where people exactly like me are on the internet. CafeMom, the social networking site for moms! It's a place where mothers can meet to talk about their children and swap "war stories." And by "war stories," I mean tales like mine of starving within the city walls of fourteenth century Calais under the booming of the English cannon. CafeMom is great. Just register a profile, like mine, then provide short descriptions of each of your kids, like the ones I wrote of Cigarette, Darling McWonderface, Faeces, Missus Toad, Slobodan and Obese with their mother/my sister, and then you've got it. So please, give it a try. I promise you'll love it:



And if that don't do it for you, I know someone who will. Gladly:

-Eleanor