Big Love.

Okay. I'm sick. But that's not why I'm into Big Love. It's kind of cool. Kind of quirky. And clearly, I have not dated in over a year, so polygamy at least provides an option. These women have babies and sex lives and houses and help. Okay, okay, there's a completely unbelievable sisterhood and an even more unbelievable absolute minimum of jealousy and let's be honest-- it's hard enough to afford one house let alone three. There are also no pets to be found. What's that about? I like my pets. Of course, these women are already juggling sex and babies. So the whole taking care of pets thing might be another fish that they don't have time to fry. Maybe that can be the spin-off after season 8: Big Pet Love. Interconnected houses with a whole Noah's Ark full of pets -- shared pet duties and cuddling schedules after their Bill Paxton leaves them and they're left as a new breed of single women-- polygamist divorcees. Hmmm... Do polygamists divorce each other and does anybody really care or for that matter, notice when you have that many wives to choose from or you're just one of many? I will say, Bill Paxton is a pretty doting guy for a wife juggler. Well, what I would consider doting. And I'm guessing polygamists wives have lower standards than me. So perhaps divorce doesn't happen in their world. These and other things are what I think about when I'm sick.

I went to a date party with a Mormon once. He was hot. A swimmer at UCLA. I asked him to go with me through some intricate process of putting fortunes I wrote into fortune cookies which involved pulling the old ones out with tweezers and stuffing the new ones I created inside. And yeah, I should probably be embarrassed. But he told me he'd go with me by ripping the bottom off of his dorm room mattress and painting, "We're There" on it. It was hanging in my doorway when I opened the door in the morning-- wearing yes, glasses -- those ones not crooked, but me younger and if possible, more self conscious. So I slammed the door shut, got ready and opened it up again. Just in case. Like he would have waited if he had been standing there, right?

The effort went to waste-- being that he didn't drink. Poor guy. Because we all did. Bunch of lushes. And me? I spent so much time trying to drink around him aka so that he wouldn't notice that I drank way more than I should have. (Remember Meg Ryan in When A Man Loves A Woman?) Anyway, I just remember my friend was dressed up as a cyclist and had a water bottle full of vodka and kept squirting it into my drink. And my other friend had a canteen. Me? I don't remember what I had. Which--if you think about it-- could have had me waking up on some compound as a polygamists wife. If only.