Okay.. okay...

My dear sister, who throughout this adoption process has served as my daily 'ad clicker' and an unsolicited editor of this blog, has informed me that the previous post was a bit raunchy. She reminded me that our parents read this. Those poor souls are probably slumped at their desk, slackened jaw and speechless right now. Once they recover they will be wondering how I could have strayed so far from the tree of decency. I bet they are hoping they had never passed this URL around to any of their friends.

I wonder if Jackie Collins's mother ever felt as though she wanted to send her grown daughter to a convent after reading 'Hollywood Wives.'

My excuse is that I'm using this blog of my adoption experience and creative writing skills (or so I think I have skills) as a launching pad to write a chick-book about a single woman's adoption journey. Think Bridget Jones meets Angelina Jolie. (Okay.. that may be a stretch). So if there's anyone out there who is in Hollywood looking for a writer for a sitcom, here's an idea... a single woman's adoption journey a la Bridget Jones meets Angelina Jolie. Pick me, pick me!! I'll supply the story lines. I'm smelling an Emmy already.

In any case, this post serves no purpose but to cover my butt in case I should die in my sleep tonight. I don't want the last thing my parents to ever read of my writing was raunchy sex stuff. God, I would just die if that was the case (even though I'm already dead).

So happy thoughts. Think butterflies. Rainbows. Flowers on a spring day.