Shania Twain is the anti-christ

This morning I woke up very early and went to yoga at my parent's gym. I was so hoping they'd be playing techno or something completely unemotional on the stereo system, but no--as I sat on my mat waiting for class to start, they played that Shania Twain song, "You're Still the One."

Meltdown. In public.

Will I be considered a total social pariah if I walk around wearing earplugs until this gets less excruciating?

Yesterday I went into Boston and went for a walk on the Minuteman Trail with a couple of friends. We had dinner in Harvard Square and I dropped a distressing amount of money on self-help books at the Harvard Book Store. First up, a Thomas Moore book called "Dark Nights of the Soul." God, could I be any more of a drama queen?

My wonderful friend C gave me keys to her apartment so I'd have a place to escape when I need to get away from my family. Bless her heart. She went through something like this years ago, so she can listen to me bawl and she doesn't wonder where my self-respect has gone. There is no way I will ever be able to repay her.