The Jessica Journals:

My mother and my youngest sister were just out here in sunny Southern California visiting wonderful me. We had a grand time...mostly...except for the time when my mother started making fun of my "boyfriend".

Yes, ever since I had that dream about Matt Drudge my mother has been convinced that I have a crush on him. Ignoring the fact that he is cute, smart, and sexy, he's 15 years older than me. (In the interest of honest reporting, I suppose I ought to point out that Orlando Bloom is 15 years older than Julia, but that has never stopped me from making fun of her "boyfriend". I guess the shoe isn't so funny when it's on the other foot.)

Of course, for all of you who know about my dream, it should be fairly clear that it wasn't some sort of lust-filled fantasy but, rather, a desperate warning sent up by my subconscious. I may claim up and down that I am a perfectly well adjusted human being, but my subconscious knows that, in reality, I'm an unsocial workaholic. And, what better way to warn me of my impending life of loneliness and despair than by having another unsocial workaholic mock my lifestyle choices?

But, if that is not proof enough, I offer you, my mother, and the world unequivocal proof that I do not have a crush on Matt Drudge.

You see? It's not even 100%. If that's not proof I don't know what is.

Yes, spring may be long past, but love is thick and heavy in the air. It smells like smog.

As I stated above, my sister and my mother came out here to LA-di-da land to visit me for a few days and during the course of their sojourn we drove to Buena Park and went to Medieval Times.

Yes, Medieval Times, the dinner theatre attraction in which guys dress up like knights and hit each other with blunted swords and sticks that break easily. It was, of course, great fun. My mom, sister, and I were seated in the section of the courageous Yellow Knight. To be honest, I have not, in the past, had a lot of respect for the yellow knight. I’ve never seen him win, and, in years previous, he was billed as the sensitive, poetry-writing “warrior” from France. Not the way to work your way into my heart.

But, this year, I heard mention of neither poetry nor of France. So, his coolness factor went up considerably. (It came into existence as a matter of fact.) Of course, his rise in value did not keep him from getting killed early on, by the pixie-haired blue knight no less.

I can only assume the fight was fixed. The tournament marshal was more biased than a football referee--more evil too, judging by the fact that he murdered the tournament winner and tried to kill the king and take over the throne.

I do, however, have the satisfaction of knowing if it had not been a scripted event our knight would have cleaned up. The pixie-haired blue guy would never have stood a chance, nor would the scrawny red knight. The green knight had a similar build to our knight as well as being close in height, so it would have been a close match, but I think our knight would have come out a little worse for wear but still the victor.

I don’t remember what the other knights were like, which simply underlines how inconsequential they were. I’m sure our knight would have slaughtered them ruthlessly and mercilessly, especially considering Julia and I were cheering him on with such vim, vigor, and gusto.

Under the circumstances, our cheers did little to help him. However, they did draw his attention to us early on, and, later, after he had won an event he threw Julia a lovely white and red carnation. What did I tell you? Move over Orlando. Love is in the air.