I love to be with people who can talk because I can't. Too many choices, too many words--I'm still thinking about what I should have said three minutes ago when every one else is partying forward. I'm very envious of people who have the gift of gab.

David can talk and talk, and remember dialogue from everything that passes, and does the voices and the accents. We have been calling him V. here, but I am not into initials any more. David doesn't work either, though that's his real name.

He looks like Calderado or Calabro or Cortez. He really looks like Rembrandt. He really looks like anything. There was a month or two when I thought Zulita looked like him--you know with babies, they could be made up of anyone when the mother is me.

She talks non-stop from the second she's up, and she's still talking as she falls asleep. She talks in her sleep, and for a minute she might shut-up when she watches a cartoon, but then she has to sing and dance with the characters. When she runs out of words, she says "I just can't stop talking, I just can't stop talking, I just can't stop talking" until she comes up with something new. It can be totally out of the blue, like "Stegosauruses are herbivores" followed by "You know what's icks-custing? Worms in your bed are totally icks-custing. I can't wait for my birthday. It's coming around and around and around. Hey, did you know gabby rhymes with Abby? Mama, aren't you amazed? Act like you're amazed."

I am totally amazed, you crazy little girl from planet gonzo. Who are your parents, anyway?