‘You’re my Jiminy Cricket’

Ever fancied yourself a Disney character? All my life, I’ve most closely identified with Belle from “Beauty and the Beast.” That could have something to do with the fact that “Beauty and the Beast” was the first movie I ever saw, but I’ve never outgrown the French story.

An irreversible country bumpkin, Belle adores her father, reads voraciously, has an easy rapport with village oddballs, and wants to explore beyond the confines of her provincial French hometown. Neighbors don’t take the time to figure her out, but Belle is content to bury herself in literature until someone of quality comes along.

I still relate to Belle, especially now that I speak French, but according to Nikki, I’m Jiminy Cricket from “Pinocchio.” Earlier today, I opened up a card Nikki had mailed me. Before scrawling out the note, she’d been feeling guilty about something and apparently asked herself, “What would Laura think?” She mentioned this in the message, dubbing me her “moral compass and Jiminy Cricket.”

Jiminy Cricket is Pinocchio’s whistling partner-in-crime and conscience. Aside from the musical quirks, I hardly feel like such an individual right now. Throughout the summer, people said I was an approachable, caring beacon of kindness. Some called me the “mother hen” of the interns, but I disputed this many times, as I’m a bit too focused on my own articles and writing to give my all to others. When I saw this card from Nikki, I had a good laugh but called her up and explained that I’m definitely not sweet all the time. I have my moments of weakness, but I’d like to think my friends can call on me during emotional crises. Au contraire, I gained a lot from Nikki, who brings out the fun in everyone.

If I’m Jiminy Cricket, she’s a law-abiding Aladdin. If she could, she’d totally sweep me off my balcony for a late night magic carpet ride. For now, drunk texts will substitute for that. On our upcoming Vegas trip, we may just climb up the giant lion statue to make up for our lack of superpowers!

I’ve had a fruitful week at TheDC. Here are some of the things I published today:
“Sex and the City” prequel confirmed, get ready to see Carrie Bradshaw high school style!
Concerned Women for America condemns French children’s lingerie line.
MTV to Abercrombie: Your “Jersey Shore” diss was a “publicity stunt,” but lets collaborate anyway
Survey finds tea party less popular than Muslims, atheists, Democrats, Republicans and all the world’s pariahs

You should also check out these stories from my colleagues:
Anderson Cooper has a laugh attack over urine joke
Christine O’Donnell pulls the lame sexism card on Piers Morgan

Today, I did one of my least favorite things. I visited the doctor for a general check-up. Because I’ve only gone to northern California physicians, the east coast medical experience was a bit terrifying. The environment was less inviting and personal, fueling my anxiety. The front desk ladies were all business and no warmth. As I’ve said before, I’m struggling to exist among so many stoic, emotionless folks. I can deal with it at restaurants, malls, bars, and stores, but not at the doctor.

As the nurse took my blood pressure, she asked, “Are you nervous? Your results are a little high.”

What a line to drop on a wide-eyed patient! I’m pretty sure I had no response, but hopefully I’m in good health in spite of the bizarre findings. To my luck, the doctor kept things short and simple. That’s one thing I appreciate about easterners: They get to the point and don’t dilly dally.

The rest of the afternoon was much more relaxing and enjoyable, even though it was Chris and Ameena’s last day at the office. I’ll miss their enthusiasm and calming presence. Earlier today, Chris transcribed one of my long-winded interviews with a biological anthropologist who shed light on the qualities of a romantic man. I rarely ask interns to transcribe, but on the occasions that I have, the interns have always been male and written up my girly interviews. That’s true dedication!


Humoring the “mother hen” attribution, I’ll go ahead and admit this makes me an empty nester! Though I’ll miss the company, pep talks, and, of course, extra help, I know my productivity level will continue to soar with fewer social distractions in the newsroom. As one of my colleagues noted, the interns kept us young. They put me in a nostalgic mindset and got me to chit chat more than necessary. I appreciated their friendship, which helped me survive some of the more tumultuous events of the summer. But as much as I’m going to miss the youthful human contact, it’s time to return to my workhorse routine.

But before I get back to the grind, I’ll share some of the oddest terms that Internet users Google searched to arrive at my blog today:

playboy playmate now living in tucson that owns a hair salon
twilight earphones
هيلاري دا
spanking kids (eesh)
college boys in the dorm
dorky dad
let’s say happy birthday to our colleagues who were born in september
big buddha belly


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