I’ll be wrinkling in the tub, and a little around the eyes.

You go have a piece of cake. I’m pleased to be your excuse.

Have I told you I’m in a new book? I have not. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Twitter Wit:

It’s a collection of clever Tweets from famous people and commoners like myself. It was edited by Nick Douglas, who just appeared on Martha Stewart to promote it. I am fairly sure he’s wearing eye shadow. You be the judge:

Yesterday, once again, I found myself at the periodontist’s with a gas mask over my face. As you may recall, I don’t particularly enjoy laughing gas, as I am a control-oriented sort, but the alternative is usually less appealing in these instances.

I took a few deep breaths, and began to hear the telltale electric beat deep in my ears. The periodontist leaned in with his gloved hands, and they seemed absurdly big. I thought, “This is the only non-sexual scenario in which a man has ever had his fingers in my mouth.”

I laughed. Then I blushed. Then I became hyper aware of my tongue, and spent the next hour wracked with concern about accidentally doing something untoward. In conclusion, laughing gas is wasted on me.

I mentioned yesterday that I made this blank, DIY ABC book for my friend Alli’s shower.

Bryan and my friend Jaime really helped — I’d intended to use a store-bought journal, but couldn’t find anything that would work. If you’d like to make one too, here’s how we did it.

We took some white cardstock sheets, 8.5 x 11, and folded them in half to make all the pages. Then we stacked those sheets with the folded edges along what would become the spine of the book.

We used a red file folder as the book cover — it had multiple creases along the fold, so you could expand how many papers it would hold in the file. We folded to the widest creases, and the “bottom” of the file became the book’s spine. Once a ruler is involved, my temples start to throb from all the pressure, so my friend Jaime measured how big the cover needed to be, then marked it off with a ruler and trimmed to order.

Bryan printed up the letters, also on white cardstock. Jaime and I cut out little templates of squares that would fit over the letters, traced a square around each letter, cut them out, and glued them in the page corners. You could easily just write the letters in by hand if you liked too, but I wanted a more polished look.

The binding was the tricky part. We tried hot gluing the pages in, but they weren’t stable enough, so Bryan took an electric drill and drilled holes in the cover, which I then threaded with ribbon. I wish we’d had some little grommets to finish the holes, but it looked pretty good, notwithstanding.

At the shower, while Alli opened the gifts, everyone took turns drawing pictures and writing messages to the new mom and baby.

I like party activities that let you interact without having to make a pregnant woman cry by guessing at the exact girth of her enormous belly. This one is a champ.

So. What can I say about being burglarized that’s constructive?

Well, first off, none of us were hurt. The thief broke in in the middle of the day, and we all (oddly) happened to be gone. So the burglar got our stuff, but the baby is safe. It makes me feel better just to type that, actually. Isn’t it nicer when you don’t have to attack a guy climbing in your apartment window while the baby looks on? I think so.

Fortunately, our sentimental things are mostly not expensive things, but this whole robbery gig is starting to feel personal. As you may remember, in December, someone stole my purse while we were in Argentina. The car’s been broken into a couple of times in the last year (always in different neighborhoods), and Bryan had his bike stolen from a coffee shop near his office a couple months ago. Whee!

However, having a baddie inside the house is a whole new level of yuck. Seeing all our drawers dumped out on the bed, waiting for the police to come take fingerprints, noticing one thing is gone, and then another, all day long. It’s gross. It makes me want to give the whole apartment a shower.

Anyway, we’re fine, but shaken. For the next few days I’m going to try not to cry when someone cuts me off in traffic or is curt to me as I’m ordering coffee, and then we’ll see how it goes.

Thanks to everyone who Twittered their concern. You guys keep proving how nice you are, and that is why I like you.