(diaryland) September 19, 2002 - 11:17 p.m.

Today is my birthday. Ninety-four years ago, I got born. My parents were going to call me Lisa, but then my Dad said, "Nah. She should be called Clare." And so I got called Clare. My younger sister got the rejected name. And then my youngest sister, Sarah, got named after the Jefferson Starship song.

This is Saint Clare. I got named after Saint Clare. My Grandma went to Italy and saw her bones once or something.

Saint Clare was a cool saint. She lived in the 1200s and one time she ran away from home with her sister. Something to do with a palm leaf. Her parents were counts.

Saint Clare was best friends with Saint Francis, who habitually chatted to squirrels. One time, Saint Clare made a bunch of guys leave her town by holding up a lamp thing that was special. She is holding it in the picture I drew. Most saints have a special object they like to carry around in pictures. That's hers.

Most importantly, Saint Clare is the patron saint of TV. She is the saint of TV because when she got too sick to go to church, she'd get a live telecast of the service projected onto the wall of her room. Sources say it was widescreen. Additionally, she's the patron saint of TV scriptwriters. I always knew there was a place in heaven for the dudes who wrote Fantasy Island. Saint Clare is also the patron saint of phones, though I don't know why.

If you ever come to my house, you will see a picture of Saint Clare stuck onto the telly. That's just where she likes to be. And then you will find Diane stuck to the couch, watching the telly, just where she likes to be.