Mother Bear in a Shark Cage

We were driving back from a cheesecake party at my Grandma's house tonight, and we passed the Utah State Prison. My thoughts went something like this ...

After watching Contagion, I'm thinking I should store my food storage someplace like this.

Oh, sad, the penitentiary. I wonder if I could go visit someone there.

Who would I visit? Some man criminal? Weird. Are there women there?

I don't think so. There must be a women's prison somewhere else.

What if the women's prison is in some dumpy little faraway town, and the she-criminal's family has to drive far to visit her? What if they can't make it that often? That would be so sad.

Maybe I should live in the same town as a women's correctional facility ... just in case, you know.

Clue: Me, in the shark cage, with a baby koala.

Then I wondered what I would ever do to get legitimately sent to prison (as opposed to being framed). I decided that one of the very few prisonable offenses I would commit without regrets is defending Graham with deadly force. Then I might be sent to prison if some lame CSI didn't collect all the evidence needed to exonerate me. But then I'd get a law degree from my cell, appeal and win my case, and then choose the actress to play me in the Hallmark channel blockbuster movie based on my life/bestselling memoir (entitled Mother Bear in a Shark Cage).

Emma Stone. Love her.

Emma Stone would be my pick to play me, not because there is any resemblance, but because I think she's an awesome actress with enough sass to pull off the gritty prison scenes. Like the one where I finally earn the trust of my boyfriend-killer/meth-dealer cellmate after defending her from a gang of she-skinheads using only an expertly-whittled crayon shank sent in my birthday package from Graham. Oscar material.

Then we drove by Thanksgiving Point, and I remembered going there with my grandma when I was little. We went to the dinosaur museum and I got a little stuffed t-rex. Love that thing.