disjointed.

I watched the Emmys tonight. Because I love Ellen. And the prolonged tribute to Tom Brokaw, Dan Rather, and Peter Jennings made me cry. Like a baby. Even though two out of three are still alive, none of them are on the news anymore. And even though I shouldn't really care, I do. They were there, in my dorm room, when I heard about the tragic things going on in our country while I was in college. Like when I went to sleep thinking Al Gore was going to be president, then woke up in the middle of the night, turned on the TV and cried myself back to sleep. Like when my sister called me on a Tuesday morning four years ago and said, "Laura, you need to turn on your TV. Something bad is happening in New York." And then later, when John and I were in our weird transitional period in LA, living in my grandparents empty house, and Bush won again.

Would it be too unbearably cliched if I said something about how my parents weren't there, but when the whole world seemed to be crashing down (that is, I discovered Politics) it was nice to see a friendly face?

Probably. So. Anyway.

Oliver Platt and Hank Azaria both lost, which disappointed me.

I finished Bee Season. I liked it a lot, but the ending was nothing at all what I expected. In fact, the whole second half of the book is very different from the first half.