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He speaks, yet he says nothing

It never fails to amaze me how little I get done when I have extended periods off work. You'd think that after three months I'd have, at the very least, an extensive knowledge of what's currently on TV. But no. I have an extensive knowledge of Britney Spears' legal woes and methods of treating diaper rash and that's about it.

However, I have managed to fill an aching gap from my past. In the winter and spring of 1995 I was living in a glorified closet over a sushi bar in San Francisco. My roommate and I concocted a genius plan to save money that consisted of cancelling our cable and resolving to read more. We went to the movies three times a week that season.

And what a season it was! This was the height of Must See TV. "Friends", "Seinfeld" and "Frasier" were all in their heyday, as was "X Files." I came to my senses and rejoined TV civilization that fall, but I could never shake the feeling that I had missed a crucial season. Characters in my favorite shows would make jokes and references I didn't get. It haunted me for a decade. Eventually via re-runs and DVDs I caught up on everything but Frasier. (It wasn't the same as seeing the shows in context, of course.) Now, thanks to TiVo, I have officially caught that lost season, watched mostly between one and five am with the sound of a breast pump whirring loudly in the background.

We've had a mostly quiet week here, although Kurt did get to no less than two barbecues on Saturday. At Denise's house Saturday night, he managed to be adorable, yet cry just enough that everyone there ended the evening feeling okay about not having a baby at home.

In more Kurt related news, he babbles and babbles. He clearly has something important to say, but hell if I know what it is. He's also starting to enjoy his baths now. Here is he in his bath/beach chair looking thoughtful:

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