On Yom Kippur, G-d is kind of like Santa Claus, except instead of presents, we get eternal damnation

My aerobics instructor is a Celine Dion fan. Not only that, but a Celine Dion techno-remix fan. I had to listen to both "I'm Alive" and "My Heart Will Go On" (AKA the theme from Titanic.) Kill me now. I wish there was a iceberg-bound luxury liner that I could get on!

In other news, Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, the Jewish High Holidays, are coming up soon. This is the time of year when G-d looks at our deeds and judges whether we have been wicked, righteous and something in between. Then we have to atone for our sins, promise never to do it again, yada yada yada.

Anyway, I'm trying to be on my best behaviour, so no more bitchy gossiping until after Yom Kippur. (Set your calendars! October 9th!) So expect lots of posts about puppies and rainbows and chubby little babies. Just call me Julie fucking Andrews, because until October 9th, this blog is basically going to be a rendition of "My Favourite Things." And to start this off right:

Awww...