My friend Slava calls them “demonic moments” — an apt description of the anxious, emotion-fraught many we’ve endured the past few days with our darling daughter. The results of these moments are revoked privileges and what promises to be a long, long weekend at home.

Is it puberty, knocking early at life’s door? Go away, we’re not ready for you, yet. In fact, we may not ever be ready for you, if this is how it’s going to be.

As I often do, I turned to books for a solution. This time, the literature is for the girl, provided by that leech on my wallet, the American Girl store. I selected the Feelings book, about the care and keeping of your emotions, in an attempt to keep at bay the head-spinning episodes that have me reaching for the phone number of our parish priest.

Let us all bow our heads and cross our fingers; we’re at our wits’ end and good gracious, she’s not even a teenager.

I am grateful for the books produced by American Girl; they’ve gotten my daughter (and many like her) to enjoy reading. What Harry Potter did for the boy, AG is doing for the girl. Now, if J.K. Rowling would produce the volume that AG does, we’d be literarily set.

I am reading In Cold Blood. After watching Capote, I realized I’d missed it. What are you reading?

My friend, Dr. Mike, took the photo at the left. This, for those of you who have never gone West of the Blue Ridge, is the St. Louis Arch. For those overly familiar with it, this is an interesting perspective of the Arch.

A symbolic “gateway to the West” the Arch stands near the banks of the Mississippi River in downtown St. Louis. As part of the skyline, no other buildings rise above it. It is interesting, beautiful and, when seen close up, rather awe-inspiring.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the creative process, lately. Inspired by this photo, today I will turn ideas on their side, get down on the floor and look up, peer at them over my shoulder and see how it can all come out very differently.

Thanks for the photo, Dr. Mike, and for reminding me of a very special part of St. Louis.

I love Anderson Cooper’s 360 blog.

Today’s post, about Black Jack, Missouri and a couple there who must get married or move, makes me a little blue about ol’ St. Lou. It’s stories like this that remind me of what I don’t miss about my former town.

I’m also a little bummed today because Terry Egger, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch’s publisher, has resigned. The paper has seen, in rapid succession, sale of the paper by Pulitzer to Lee Enterprises, the resignation of editor Ellen Soeteber, a buyout of seasoned and familiar reporters that left the staff a little thinner, and a lot younger, and now this. What will happen next?

I am missing St. Louis, though, particularly the people there (all but one of my co-workers, most of my friends and some family). I’m looking forward to a visit next month and hope it will be enough to fix my homesickness.

After four months in Charlottesville, it’s finally settled in. I. Live. Here. I’m not moving back, this hasn’t been some long, weird vacation, this is really where I live, for now, and maybe forever. This is home? Yes, this is home. I’ll get used to it, I swear.

And now, a special St. Louis edition of hoosiers in the news, the teen prom edition (editor’s note: anyone who wears a $218 dress with $5 nails from Wal-Mart automatically qualifies, no matter the ZIP code).

OK, six weird things . . .

1. I cannot bear to think about my skeleton. It creeps me out.
2. I do not like to eat certain things in public, such as ribs, corn on the cob or other messy items.
3. I used to bite my nails obsessively until Tim M. told Mike H. that I’d be cuter if I didn’t bite my nails. The time, being eighth grade, even though I didn’t like Tim or Mike, I stopped cold turkey.
4. I love poetry, majored in English, read voraciously and really, really don’t care for Shakespeare’s sonnets.
5. I get all choked up over the most sentimental crap but didn’t shed a single tear during The Passion.
Whoa, I thought I was weirder than this but this is really tough!
6. I remember the name of every teacher I’ve ever had.

Da Rules: (as written by Jamma Mamma)
Once you have been tagged (and if you’re reading this blog, I have tagged you) you have to write an entry with 6 weird facts/things/habits about yourself. After the last fact, choose 6 people who you want to tag and list their names (except for this blog, if you’re reading this, you’ve been tagged, sucka!) Then leave a comment that says ‘You are tagged’ on their page telling them to read your blog. (If you haven’t gotten it yet, “YOU ARE HEREBY TAGGED!”)After YOU get tagged, you have to go back to the blog of the person who tagged you and let them know you have fullfilled your tagging obligation and put up your list of six things. That means you have to come back HERE and let me know you put up a post with your six items.

After about ten years of pondering and searching, my quest ended with an hour and 45 minutes of wandering and contemplating, gift cards and coupon in my pocket.

I finally have new dishes!

Here they are, you can tell me what you think.

And now I can’t go back to Pier One for maybe six months or so because they already know me and probably think I’m a little weird and obsessive. I doubt they’ve ever seen anyone ponder a purchase for quite as long. Dishes, though, are part of your every day life. Choose wisely.

It is pouring and in a few minutes, we’re leaving to go march in the Dogwood Festival Parade. Out our sunroom windows, it looks like bad Beer Float weather. Good thing we won’t be in canoes. Gotta remember the hat.

Our daughter is marching with the Girl Scouts, our son with the marching band. I think every kid involved in anything in Charlottesville is participating in this parade. So later today, people will be squeaking and sloshing through Whole Foods with bad hair and soggy fleece. Look for me, I’ll be slogging along with the rest of them.

Actually, I’m hoping to get to Pier 1. With a “welcome to the neighborhood” $10 off coupon and $20 in gift cards I’m hoping to find something I can’t live without.

Our daughter has outgrown every stitch of clothing she owns. At nine years of age, she stands 5′1″ — taller than some of my adult friends! To avoid her belly-baring, Britney Spears-invoking style . . .

small side story: we were explaining the term “hoosier” as it’s used in St. Louis vernacular to our new Charlottesville friend, Matt. He was beginning to grasp the concept and said, “you mean like Britney Spears?” Yes, exactly.

. . . we invested in new pants, t-shirts and pajamas online at Kohls.com. Taking advantage of a two for one sale, we stocked up on cute knit gaucho pants, capris, polos, Carter’s jammies and t-shirts that (truth be told) look like they could fit me.

Shopping for myself, even though I have not outgrown my wardrobe (ahem, must get to walking more), I have my eye out for tees that are not boring and a fun summer watch. I found these at Naughty Secretary Club a fun little tour. Let me know if you have a source for cool summer watches or a fave shopping stop for kids’ clothes (online or in person).

An open letter to the woman wearing white slacks and an orange sweater, shopping at Harris Teeter tonight.

Dear WWWS&OS, S@HTT:

I spotted you over by the produce, with your white slacks and your VPL, looking for all the world like a full moon behind a sheer curtain. As I pushed my cart past you, over by the organic vegetables, I thought at first you were shoplifting a melon in the front of your pants. Sweetheart, I hope today was not the day for your performance review, or that you did not address a group in a large meeting. I thought of you at work and hoped that today was spent behind your desk, in an office, alone.

As we both shopped, I wanted to take you aside by the olive bar and whisper to you a secret: Spanx. They’ll save you, professionally, socially, and even grocery shopping.

Now, I will grant you, if you glanced my way and saw my Keds, jeans, cotton sweater and the WHE, you may have grimaced, and thought, “what happened to her?”

Steer clear of the Hair Cuttery, I would have said, and this is my final advice to you WWWS, etc.

Kindest regards,

STLmom