in other news, i've been redoing my baby album this week. it was in one of those old style albums with the sticky pages. you know, the kinds that slowly eat photos from the inside out until they deteriorate into scraps of moldy nothingness? yeah, that kind. so i've taken everything out and am putting it all in a new-fangled photo-safe version. poring over those pictures in getting them all unstuck and arranged and everything has been ... somewhat depressing. it's hard to explain. there are all these pictures of me and my family, from age 3 weeks until about age 6. me with the my sisters, brothers, mom, dad, pets. we all look happy, loving. we look like ... a family. the way jeremy, magnolia and i look now, i imagine. but the scenes and emotions depicted in those photos ... well, they are all ... gone, pretty much. that happy family is fragmented and haunted by pain, guilt and regret. i look at the faces in the pictures and think that those faces are oblivious of what's to come. and it's not that our lives have been shattered by anything tremendously horrific. just run-of-the-mill divorce, addiction, and abuse. and those faces, their ignorance is bliss. and it makes me sad. i crave the assurance and love that show on little 8-month-old dotti's face in some of those photos. and it doesn't help that magnolia looks exactly like i did when i was a kiddo. it tears at my heart to know that she will ever feel anything other than confidence and love. i guess i'm having one of those melancholy reflective weeks. damn them. i think i prefer the callous, sarcastic and abrasive weeks.