>My plan for today was to walk the route of the tour I am giving for the NYC Transit Museum on the 26th. However, a driving cold rain put the damper on that, so to speak. Instead, I stayed home and did some work.

Husband handled laundry while I wrote a short story (assignment: a scene of seduction, which cracks me up). When I went into the bedroom to help him fold the piles of clean clothes, I noticed that he had turned on the TV. A League of Their Own filled the screen. "Oh. My. GOD! I love this movie!!!" I shouted.

Within minutes, my eyes welled with tears. (The publicity guy fought with the league owner about the future of women when the men come home from war.) Then, my throat filled with laughter. (Madonna tried to get more publicity for the league by wondering if it would help if her bosoms fell out of her uniform, and Rosie O'Donnell responded by cracking, "What? You think there's a man in this country that hasn't seen your bosoms?!?")

Ah, this movie kills me. I'll be bawling my eyeballs out by the end, when the real players join the characters at the reunion. (Or do the actress just wear aging make-up? I forget. Either way, I'll be a big cheese doodle.)

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