Haven't been blogging much lately. I'm still shaken over news that Hooters Airlines is closing up shop. Now if Chris leaves me, I have nothing to fall back on.

That and I'm trying really hard to catch up on work, reading manuscripts and editing my own.

That and I don't have much to say.

All I can think about is in 20 minutes the raspberry Jell-O should be fully gelled and I can finally eat it.

I like Jell-O. Plain Jell-O -- none of that floating fruit crap.

Well, not exclusively plain, I suppose, I like Strawberry Pretzel Squares a lot. As a youth I enjoyed Jell-O shots, although I don't think I'd enjoy them much now. One time for a party, I filled clear plastic cups with blue Jell-O, vodka, swedish fish and gummy worms. My mistake was making them the night before. The vodka ruined the consistency of the fish and worms. It was gross, but looked neat.

Livingston women are renown for our henious Jell-O dishes. One time my aunt served a Jell-O "salad." I thought it was dessert, but I was mistaken and as she pointed out any asshole could tell it was a dinner salad because it was served on a bed of lettuce, mixed with cottage cheese and the center was filled with mayonaise, not cool whip.

Later that evening I joined the mile-high club -- well, if the mile-high club included people who barfed on planes.

I have a Christmas ornament commerating that red-eye flight. Yes, I found a Jell-O salad Christmas ornament.

I think my 20 minutes of waiting are up -- mmmm, Jell-O. Mine is filled with love. Yours?