Some big things have happened this week. Iran made progress in UN sanctions, British PM Tony Blair announced that he will resign within a year, and the world lost beloved conservationist and TV personality Steve Irwin. Now, I'm just a baby so maybe I don't understand how things work in the world. I mean, I chew on my own feet for god sakes. But I gotta tell you, I'm not so naive I can't at least realize that these stories are kind of newsworthy. I simply can't comprehend why my first trip outdoors is newsworthy, other than the fact that it's MY FIRST TRIP OUTDOORS IN FOUR MONTHS.
That's fucking crazy, is it not? Apparently, it's another one of Tom's Scientology things—he's afraid that I'm going to be tainted by the outside world or some such shit. Dude, I can't even hold my own head up. The most traumatizing thing that happens to me on a daily basis is that I'm spending a good part of the day marinating in my own waste. So what does he do on my first trip out into the world? He sticks me in front of a camera and makes some shady deal to get me on the cover of one of the country's most popular magazines? I don't think I have to tell you that I've already booked a one-way ticket to Dysfunction Junction.
I also probably don't have to tell you that it's no fun having a camera shoved in your face when Tom Cruise is around. He lives for that shit. As soon as the lens cap comes off, that Chiclet-tooth smile lights up and then the laughing starts. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Loud, brazen, never-ending laughter. Now imagine he's holding you and hoisting you up in the air and doing that blowing-on-your-tummy-to-make-a-fart-noise thing—well, it's horrifying when that shit's right up in your face.
As for Mommy, the Fischer-Price Baby Activity Center hanging on my crib has more going on, if you know what I'm saying. The 926,457th time she says, "I'm so happy! Tom is the most amazing man I've ever met! I'm so happy!" you kinda start to think that maybe the Scientology CDs she's been listening to have been skipping or something. Don't get me wrong, I've still got hope for her, but the robo-babe routine is getting old fast.
So, to sum up: everything blows. Again, I'm not asking for pity—just some understanding. And a binky. Is it too much to ask to get a fucking binky?? You can't tell me that's another Scientology no-no. It's total fucking bullshit!
Until next time—and if you see Granny and Gramps Holmes, tell them "the eagle has flown". They'll know what I mean.
Suri Holmes Cruise