A Man and his Ashes = Mashes????

Why did watching Joel Osteen preach at 12:30 in the morning reduce me to tears? He's a slick willy and his wife Victoria, armed in a leather, persimmon colored Talbots jackets, and probably some pretty naugh-tay lingerie, weirdly reminds me of Lynn Cheney. But he, the little man, talked fast, consulted his notes only a few times and strangely, made enought points that I forgot that his congregation of 16,000 wasn't sitting in some converted Astro-dome in Texas. (No time here lamenting the highprice of wine and bread concession eats.) No purchase of his books or DVDs, nor contributions to his endorsed charities or church itself, but I must admit, his point about moving on from the past and leaving our pains, our hurts (our "ashes" as Victoria probably convinced him to say) merits consideration.

But it's 4 am and I'm not quite sure if I am working tomorrow, so, let me wrap up on these things that I really should be considering right now:

Why did I try to watch "Titanic" again? It just was so damn awful.... Was the hysteria about the film really so great that the J. Peterman catalogue made and probably sold several copies of Rose's trousseau?

Is the lightheadedness that I keep feeling from lack of sleep, from taking a full Tylenol PM last night?

What was the truly funny thought I had the other night that involved a modern day update of the Dallas season finale... the one with a sudsed up Bobby Ewing in the shower saying "Hello Sue-Ellen".....

Was anyone ever actually named Sue-Ellen? Wa