So my big thought for the day — Hang out with someone who makes you laugh.

My mom was essentially a perennial victim. There was always some reason that her life hadn’t worked out, or small things that worked against her or just a reason to complain about how she never had any luck. I try very hard not to be that person.

Clearly, it’s not working. I know this, because at Star Market, M. turned to me as I wistfully browsed the half-price Valentine’s candy to imitate me, “No one ever calls me, {mock whimper], no one emails me…” Apparently, I am my mother’s daughter. Curse, genetics. {insert impotent fist shake here.}

M. makes me laugh.

Speaking of birth defects, my boss spent a certain portion of today taunting my accent. It seems on talk radio this morning, a local had called in to moan about the A-Rod trade to the Yankees. The caller had a poem, in which she was able to rhyme “pre-madonna,” “goner” and “corner.” I have a Boston accent, but I’m not a friggin cartoon.

I just saw Meg Ryan on Conan. Did she have a face transplant? I haven’t seen anyone look as different since Jennifer Gray got a nose job. Tomorrow I think I’ll dig up pictures of the transformation.