Saturday, December 27, 2008

Can I please be a villain again, and forget I ever tried to be a hero?

In a recent, random turn of events, I have found myself a changed person. Formerly a villain, now turned hero. It all started on what the world knows as 'Black Friday'. (And yes, I could now take a break and inform you it's called 'Black Friday' because it's typically the first day of the year that retail sales get out of the red and back into the black, therefore creating a profit and making everyone smile and behave erratically...but I wont bore you with such trivial knowledge). And though it began on 'Black Friday', none of my change presented itself until Christmas Eve.

I'd like to blame my brothers for this newly-found dilemma, as it was while shopping for them that this possibility showed itself to me. Maybe it was getting up at 4:30am to shop. Maybe it was two coffees before 11am. Maybe it was the utter chaos surrounding me. But I realized, "If they can be heroes, why can't I?". Yes, it stretched my imagination to its limits. It's hard to picture myself finding joy in anything with the slightest connotation of niceness/helpfulness/supportiveness/some-other-word-that-ends-in-ness that comes with the word 'hero'. But a hero, nonetheless, I've become.

And please don't picture me as some role model. By all means, I am in no way insinuating I've achieved perfection. As I face the crowds in my daily situations, trying only to do what I think is right, I sometimes hear the crowds and their mocking. Taunts to dissuade me from chasing after my new-found vision. Perhaps they are, themselves, merely villains waiting for their moment when they will be able to choose to become heroes, too. Maybe they still don't understand that they have a choice. And with that in mind, I will not take anything they say to heart, and hope that they too will become a hero.

As for me, I will continue trying to be a hero, or in the very least, a 'guitar hero'.

And on a side-note, if in a incidental moment, you happen upon me playing and find me blushing, make no assumptions. I'm not ashamed to admit to playing Guitar Hero (though maybe I should be). I'm probably just remembering and embarrassing moment. I think I'll share it with you now...

I'd like to start by saying, I love my in-laws. I am blessed and thankful to have them as my family. They raised my husband to be and incredible man. They are wonderful grandparents. They even love me (and goodness knows that can be a task!).

They are also quite conservative. This isn't usually an issue, but I know there are lots of unspoken things we could disagree on. Some things are just better left unsaid, especially in the interest of keeping peace. (I do understand not all moms have their lips pierced and tattoo sleeves in the process...) I suspected that the game 'Guitar Hero' may push the limits. So, in an effort to not offend, when I found out they would be stopping in for the night, I'd planned on keeping the game (and especially its case), put away.

Here is where the ever-helpful Creed enters the story. Not only did he proceed to tell them we got the game (while Traben sang "slow ride...take it easy" in the background), he sought out the case to show off. I tried to distract him. Then, unable to do so, make myself appear distracted as I saw Todd's mom's countenance change from pleasant to disapproving, while she was looking over the case. I was looking to Todd to get him to divert attention when Creed uttered these marvelous words, while pointing at the cover....

"And this one is my mom!"

Todd choked.

I blushed.

If you're not familiar with the game, here's why;


Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Some things I'm thankful for....or rather, the first 10 thoughts that came to mind...

To celebrate the closing of a year, and welcome in a new one, I'd like to share with you a small list of things I am thankful for this year.

10: Velcro on my kids shoes. ~ I don't mean the kind that straps them on, but the little sticky tabs I added to put random notes to people, especially teachers. Example: "Please ignore the staples in his head, he always likes to start school well-supplied"

9: Used books from St. Vincent DePaul. ~ Books are cheaper to buy there than at your local mega-mart-book-peddler, and they come with a unique 'used-by-an-old-person scent' only found in thrift stores.

8: My Wii and WiiFit. ~ Not only do I get to be more fit, but I get to do so while making the neighbors wonder if I'm fighting with my imaginary friend...again.

7: Lint Rollers. ~ I don't actually own one as of yet, but with my dog currently shedding, I like to know that the possibility of removing his excess hair from my shirt, with ease, is possible. And for only a small cost.

6: Wood (and its byproducts). ~ What can't it do? Sure, it can't be used as a flame retardant, and maybe it doesn't taste good to eat, but... Houses can't be made without it. [Okay, they probably can.] But, without wood, we wouldn't have newspapers. [Although, many are online now.] Okay, well at least without wood, we wouldn't have pulp and without pulp we wouldn't have toilet paper. And that would be a sad world.

5: My toenails. ~ As of this day, more than 26 years into my life, I have yet to have a toenail fungus, and for that I am grateful. *knocks on wood (see what else wood is useful for?!)*

4: My dogs desire to eat anything. ~ I always knew I wanted a puppy, but I never knew the extent of the joys that would abound in my having to pry things out of the creatures mouth, every ten minutes.

3: The cat that adopted us. ~ Me, thankful for a cat? Yes, because who else could I refer to as "el diablo", while cleaning their muddy prints out of our bathtub. And how many people can say they have a cat that loves to sit in a tub?

2: The wipers on car headlights. ~ Not only are they highly useful, clearing off the high beams, but they're just dern cute. Teeny-tiny wipers going 'swish-swish-swish'.

And for the final thought...

1: Nonsense. ~ Not only does it help ease the daily dose of serious, but it makes the blahs dissapear, if only for a moment. "A little nonsense now and then, cherished by the wisest men"... a constant thought, singing in my head, thanks to good ol' Willy Wonka.

Thanks for reading my blogs this year. As Christmas draws near, and a New Year approaches, I hope that you will find peace and joy in your life's journey.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

It's getting hot in here...

All of my life, as long as I can remember, I've feared being a diaphoretic. This isn't one of my fears that's crippling. It's not like my myrmecaphobia, where I can't help but shut down in fear. I can survive, and should I have an episode, I can quickly recover. I'm sure a lot of people would tell me to just get over it, that life shouldn't be full of these fears... And while I try to overcome, in the heat of the moment, it becomes my obsession.

So, I've chosen to live my life carefully. I try to 'dress for success', and stick with environments in which I feel comfortable. I've truly taken a very proactive approach to this issue. I found that adenosine has been linked to causing specific episodes of diaphoresis. Now, I try daily to combat the presence of its mere existence in this macrocosm that is my life. I have even been medicating myself because of this.

But, finding this (near)cure has also led to a light addiction. Okay, a rampant addiction. You never expect the cure to become its own disease, but it has. And not without its own side-effects. I find myself feeling more alert at random hours when sleep should be calling me. Some days I feel edgier, almost jittery. And, in the unfortunate event that I'm unable to ingest my daily dosage, it feels as though my world is crashing in around me. My head aches, my body feels weak, my bed beckons me.

But don't think that I'm complaining. I'm not trying to break this addiction, yet. My fears are still prevalent. Honestly, I know it's not healthy to be so dependant, but I cannot choose life any other way. I've tried. And, upon further research, as much as my medication is for binding the adenosine (therefore helping combat my diaphoretic-phobias), it's useful in other ways. It's been known to combat cancer, help fight off diseases like diabetes and Parkinsons...not that I should try to justify the vices in my life.

So, there's no real significance to my admissions today. As a diaphoretic, I fear excessive sweating. Adenosine is naturally in our bodies, and can increase perspiration, but caffeine binds the adenosine. And gosh darn it, if caffeine is gonna help, I'm drinking more coffee. Coffee is the cure for everything. So drink up!Besides, who needs sleep anyway?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Kid Tested, Mother-disapproved!

As I wander through life, I've come to accept the fact that I have memory issues. It's not an easy road to follow, as I can't remember the directions to wherever I'm heading. And, in the chance instant that I actually arrive in the appropriate location, I can't remember why I am supposed to be there. I've blamed it on using too much space to store mostly useless information, like every phone number I've had, and every phone number I've ever dialed. Or thought about dialing. Or saw someone else dialing.

But what was I saying?

Oh, my memory!

Just this week I realized the true cause. Growing up, I ingested enormous amounts of cleaners. By the bowlful, and with a spoon. I'm not exactly sure when my desire for this concoction first reared its ugly head. I can remember being five years old, at the earliest. A glorious cleaning agent, also a degreaser, a known fertilizer that has caused algae blooms if allowed to flow into bodies of water... it was one of my favorite treats.

And I have to admit, it's because I fed it to my dog that this all came into the light. You see, I've also been feeding it to my kids. And the other day, during breakfast, some of this glorious substance spilled onto the floor. Before it could be cleaned up, my dog was into it. And he went from puppy-happy, to crack-happy. And with every bite, it was another burst of energy, like he was on a high from the tiniest amount. My dog became a whirlwind of uncontrollable impulses, crashing several moments later into a deep sleep. It was like a super drug, causing me to ask myself, "What am I doing?".

So, beware. I have a feeling trisodium phosphate is everywhere. It's in your local hardware stores. It's in your grocery stores, for sure. And it may already be in your cupboards. In the meantime, I'm going to think twice before buying Kix.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

I've Never Eaten A Snail

The European Union was created in 1993 as a means to compete with the US for power and the rights to act superior. It hasn't been easy to mesh different ideas and 23 languages, but all countries involved seem to thoroughly enjoy gathering together, with earpieces to sort out the cacophony, and form new ways to confuse American tourists while they travel abroad.

That being said, only a few decades ago, this may not have been possible. (Thank God, Al Gore invented the idea.) As an example, it was only in 1945 that the enmity between Germany and France ended and the Franco-German Partnership was created. This truly seemed to be an impossibility, and some days may not logically make sense, especially with the never ending battle for who has the superior cars. The French argue their Peugeot reigns supreme, while the Germans stand by their Volkswagen. It's an argument that, like many American Chevy vs. Ford disagreements, has been known to ruin the best of relationships.

And yet, now France and Germany stand strong, side by side. They have overcome their Euroscepticism, and are now known in the EU as the "twin engine that could".

So, why the history lesson? In an amazing turn of events, I have now come to realize I have absolutely no clue who I am. I am but a random person in this world, whose origins are questionable. I'm a foreigner in my own body.

True, I could be feeling this way because I have been suffering from a migraine. They tend to make my mind cloudy. It could also be the smoke in the air, here in Oregon. There's always much speculation as to what we're actually breathing in, as the locals burn their choice, er... incense?

But largely it's due to the fact that I have grown up identifying myself as mostly Dutch/German. I have found my pride in my roots, and also blamed my heritage on my prideful ways (and to quote my Grandma, "Big bones."). Maybe I should have been more aware, and realized that not only is my pride evident, but also arrogance. If I could have seen this in myself, but a bit more clearly, maybe I would have foretold the events that happened this week. This week I found out that, as much as I am German, I am also French. Oui, it's true. So, today I make an internal Franco-German Partnership and pledge to continue life as I have known it. I will try to judge less, and though I will never get over the terror of working with an irrational blind Frenchman, I will live more peaceably with the French. And above all, to avoid more conflict, I will continue driving a Jeep.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

The Root of All Evil

Until recently, I didn't realize that I had surrendered all rights to my brain. It's kind of like I'm in a horror movie, and I didn't realize I was living it.

As a child, I watched the movie "Invaders from Mars" (the 1986 edition). If you haven't seen it, these giant aliens that take over the world by drilling holes in the back of people's necks. They all became drone-like, and the way you could know they'd been transformed was by the trade-mark Band-aid on their necks. Needless to say, it was highly inappropriate for me to sneak and watch. I suffered endless nightmares from the movie, the only more disturbing images to ever enter my mind's-eye being "Cocoon". [If I ever found a cocoon on the back of my neck, it may be the death of me, especially if ants are involved.]

But back to my decreasing mental capacity.

Lately, when asked a question, I have only had one answer. It's like it was drilled into my brain, and there's only one answer that can come out. It's not that I don't possess any other knowledge, it's that I cannot overcome. There was a seed planted, it's taken root and all that now grows is this lone thought.

It can be a question regarding the weather, an address, a scientific fact, someones height. And, as I find my brain is relying heavily on this lone idea, I now find that my phone is infected as well.

Be warned, it's viral, highly contagious and may soon take over the world. "What is it?" you ask.

As the movie suggested on it's ads, there's no place on Earth to hide.

I can only give you only the same answer I give everyone regarding everything else;


Monday, November 3, 2008

Physics and Physical Labor

In a continued effort to enlighten the masses and help people attune themselves to their daily surroundings (and the insanity of my own), I bring you a thought that's weighed heavily on my head. The law cannot be broken.

Every day I try to live my life abiding by the law. We all do. Yet, lately I have desired more earnestly than ever to break the law. It's driven me to the brink of insanity, yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot physically accomplish the task. I have a theory about why this happens (but theories typically don't hold a chance standing up to laws). But it all comes back to the law. And the law is set. It cannot be broken.

Blast these laws of Thermodynamics!

The Second Law says that entropy always increases in a closed system. One of the things engineers generally do is to define the boundaries of a system such that it is closed. That is, they combine the open system and the outside source of energy into a larger, closed, system.

Have I lost you? I'm sorry. Okay, basically, it all has to do with heat, or energy... but it's also been proven to apply to many other aspects of life. Think of it this way, a wall will not spontaneously build itself, but will fall apart. Energy has to be used to create a wall, but it cannot spontaneously create itself. It can, however come crashing down... everything goes from order to disorder. At best, you can break even and nothing will change, but it will never improve.

Another example is a car rolling along a road that has kinetic energy can do work (by carrying or colliding with something, for example); as friction slows it down and its energy is distributed to its surroundings as heat, it loses this ability. The amount of entropy is often thought of as the amount of disorder in a system.

So, in the system that is my home, as I mop my floors, I earnestly desire to break the law. The law is set though, no matter how much energy I expend, eventually it will all be in vain... dirtied and ruined... and I will mop again, all the while contemplating how thermodynamics has ruined my life.

(and if this is all completely incorrect,'s not surprising)

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Oh, how times change...

I recently came to realize the great deprivation going on in our culture, mostly affecting our children. I don't know what came to bring about the changes, most likely it was someone in Washington with some grand idea... but I came to the understanding that the youth of our nation are no longer living the many life-enhancing experiences of what most of us older generations knew in our childhood.

My childhood, to me, was rather ordinary. And seeing how my friends were raised, we all shared the same experiences. Life was full of fun, random excursions. But there were also circumstances necessitating that I should have to earn some wages, even early on in life. And that led to complete and utter emotional devastation brought upon by rejection. I can think of days and weeks on end of nearly trying to sell my soul to the next stranger, trying to make a single dollar, only to be sent away... the shame. It still resonates heavily in my soul. And yet I know, that without these experiences, I wouldn't have the spirit to persist despite adversity. I wouldn't know how to overcome that dreaded shame of refusal and become stronger as a person of worth.

So, as I deal with all that I have learned and apply it daily to my life I have so many questions... though I do understand some concerns, I wonder why people no longer force their children to do door-to-door sales of candies and other hardly-useful items? Why must it be encouraged that they sell only to friends and family? Why must we spare them the shame?... or rather, why wasn't I spared?

Friday, October 17, 2008

It looks like my mama was right...

Mom said I should turn this into a blog, or that it sounded like it was becoming one... I guess it is.

The way I was raised, I grew up in a very specific religion. I've been grounded in my ways, not only taking on these beliefs because I was taught to, but because they were my own. Truly ingrainded in me, as I have lived my 26 years in this lifestyle. There are days when I don't know if I could exist outside of the realm of my beliefs, or could seperate myself from my own tenets.

When I met Todd, I knew we may eventually have difficulties blending our ideas. He was raised on the complete opposite side of the belief spectrum as myself. I can look at things honestly and know that, while he is a man of peace, his morals are based around peaceful thoughts as well. And I can look at how I was raised, and know that, I was taught intolerence. Where Todd was raised to embrace, I was taught to repel. When he was taught to show compassion, I was to show wrath. If he was told to feed the hungry, I was told to scare them away, using force if necessary. I guess it's a testament to how we can all appear as any part we want to be in this play called life. After all, no one would ever guess my father had instilled in me such things, but it his to him I attribute all of this.

And so now I face a cross-roads in life. Todd and I been married for eight years without ever having a problem sharing our lives. We've both changed, and changed eachother. I've seen him be less tolerant at times, and feel shame knowing I've helped him become this way. I also know that, I have softened. I also am able to be thankful that our sons have wandered away from what I stand for and are following their father's ideals.

Seeing them look at me, asking me how I could deny others help, I have to ask myself why I would. And I wait for someone else to help, knowing that no one else will.

I am conflicted. I want to set the right example, but I have no idea how to cross that line. And I'm afraid in doing so, I may alienate myself from some of my family.

I'm afraid of, in embracing this new lifestyle, I'm condemning my own life. How do I make up for a lifetime of living on the wrong side of the line?

It truly seems I have come to a point in my life where I will have to decide which life to follow.

As I look out the window toward the neighbors, I have to ask myself, "As a dog lover, could you truly ever care for this creature? Could you really actually care for...a cat??"

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Actions speak louder than words....

In an effort to live life the way I'm supposed to, I'm going to attempt to become more transparent. I live my life as a front. I know I try to appear peaceable with others, accepting even, but I know the truth. I truly have far too many enemies. Life has become taxing trying to hold a grudge against the many that I find offensive. And I know there have to be many in the world that feel the same about me, but I find it sad that I have to live repulsed by so many.

So I began to think of what appropriate actions should be taken. I can't fix others, and it's not fair to keep everyone that's disagreeable away. Especially when we all have equal rights to this world. I can only work at fixing me. Sounds like I've been watching Dr. Phil or something, but I haven't. It's just the truth as I see it.

And as much as thinking can pain me, I continued to think. To think about the way I'm supposed to treat my enemies. I was reading in my Bible and in Romans 12 it says "If your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." And I decided it was time to take this verse literally. Not just trying to fake a smile, or keep my reaction low-key (like a grimace), but truly show care. To actually take a physical substance and my feed them.

And so, looking to my fridge (or at least the top of it), I grabbed a bottle and went outdoors. In the cool October morning, I shared my patio and its comforts and gave nourishment... with the knowledge that it would become like coals not only on my enemies heads, but in their stomachs as well.

Yes, I overcame my myrmecaphobia enough to share some Terro with those nasty, little... er...well, you can see what I'm talking about in this picture.


Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Are Bizarre Things Happening Because October is Coming?

I'm starting to think that fate {definition-an event (or a course of events) that will inevitably happen in the future} truly rules the course of my actions. Perhaps it's my surroundings contributing daily to these happenings. Possibly, I'm genetically inclined to such behavior (though past has proven this isn't probably the case). But bizarre happenings are occurring.

I live in Eugene, OR. [yes, that is weird, but a topic for another day]

I'm starting to think that, after immersing myself in the culture that is Eugene, it may be impossible to resist conforming to a certain extent. Granted, never in this lifetime will you find me wearing patchouli. I wont be caught with my toes enjoying soggy surroundings in Birkenstocks & wool socks. I will not be found driving a Volkswagen van (though I'm still fond of the old-school square-back VW's). I wont be attending either the Country Fair or the Eugene Celebration.

I'm talking about something that is more offensive than I care to admit. I've spent years swearing I wouldn't. I fought teachers in my freshman year of high school, and the battle has never ended. I will not be me. I will not cross that line. I will not become one of them.

Last night I found myself, yet again compromising... conforming. The waffle iron has won. I donned my Nikes, slipped into the cool darkness, turned up my iPod and started running.

It's true. And this isn't the first. I'm starting to feel like I need a daily fix, to feel the light breeze in my face. I need the adrenaline rush that comes from dodging cars that almost hit me.

After all, I live in "Track Town USA".

I may never help carry that title with grace (please don't laugh when I run by, stumbling!). I may not even carry it long-term, or hold my own in any marathons. But living here, in the spirit of all the title embodies, I can't help but partake. And I can't help but think that maybe all of us should join in, bringing our own unique style to the fun.

So, if our eyes meet in the dim light, our feet moving faster than a walk, I promise to not laugh. After all, I'll be the one wearing the bright red cape.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

To my former friend... now my enemy.

You used to thrill me with your coming. I'd wait in anticpation for the moment of your arrival. I'd try to tune my ears, listening intently to discern the engine in your vehicle from the others passing by. I'd restlessly wait by the window. Your very coming, if but for a passing moment was always enough for me. It was a gift, as you never arrived with your hands empty.

But now I wait and watch. I watch and I wait. You never call. My emails are never responded to. I've seen you drive past and wondered why you wont stop here. I wait to greet you warmly, but the cold rumble of your truck is all I now know, as it quickly flies past me.

I can't help but think that you're doing this intentionally, trying to avoid me. Trying to ruin the days leading up to my birthday, to ruin the gift of the day. Trying to appear casual as if we never met. As if you never cared enought to bring delight to my doorstep in the past.

So I wait. And hope. And can't help but feel that there is no hope, but that it's lost. All that we had has been lost. You may never return, and I may never ask you to again.

UPS, didn't you know? Didn't you know there are others more reliable? FedEx. DHL. Goodness, even the United States Postal System.

*note to my missing shoes- "Please come home. My feet long to wear you."

Friday, September 19, 2008


Every day brings with it a new task for cleaning. I don't deny that this is the majority of my work in the day. My first goal is always to love my boys and keep them alive. A good day would be finished without requiring staples, band-aids or ?? The next goal, which is also a little hard to attain, is that of a somewhat sanitary existence. I'm not saying I want my house sterile, the kind of home where it looks like no one has ever walked into. I'd just like to survive walking across the living room or using the bathroom without getting toothpaste all over my hands...

Each day truly has its own challenges.

Milk in the carpet. That was yesterday.
Marker on the walls was two days ago (thank God for "goof-off").
Random bug parts... hourly.
Broken toilets. Clogged sinks. Stained clothes. Muddy floors. Spills in the fridge. Spills under the fridge. Broken glass. More broken glass. Still more broken glass. Broken glass from a lava lamp.

But today I have a new dilemma I had never faced. My chocolate-brown microfiber chair, my sole piece of furniture that I like has been tainted. It received an extended visit from a school of goldfish. Granted, I think I could handle having the kind that actually swim. These were the kind that have oil and flour and more oil. And they left their marks....their little silhouettes...on my chair. So, today I ponder how to clean the chair, or if the fish and chocolate should remain paired. *sigh*

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Repulsed By Another Hobo...(don't miss the fine-print)

Maybe it hasn't been stated before, or maybe it's been said too much. And living here in Eugene, where all life is valuable (unless it's a pre-born human), I will probably find myself in trouble for writing this. I truly find hobo's repulsive. I loathe them. Despise them. Hate them even. What brings this about? Lately, I've had several close encounters with them. They always seem to be shirking about in some random location, waiting to prey on some unsuspecting person. I feel that they are completely useless in this world.

Harsh? Hardly! Have you seen the wounds they've inflicted? Have you heard of the nightmares they've induced? And, as their presence is only increasing, people are starting to feel less secure both in and outside of their homes. I know I am. And it's justifiable for having such a fear. Today, as I was in my own back yard, enjoying the cooler weather with my boys, we were charged at by a single hobo. Here is where trouble may arise as I state the truth of what happened next; I hit it with a shovel. I felt we were threatened and there was justification in my actions. As we screamed in terror, I knew there was nothing else I could do but weild my shovel and deliver a deadly blow.

I can't say I mourn the loss of this nameless hobo. I doubt many will. There is no marker on the grave. There was no fine farewell or eulogy. Not a single tear shed. Goodbye, nameless hobo. May spider eternity treat you well.

(for more info on hobo spiders, please don't ask me as I may come at you with a shovel out of pure fear that in speaking the word 'hobo' another vicious spider may arise from the grave and attack)

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Breakfast Renewed??

Every morning I try to sit down and read the paper, while drinking my coffee and eating a little breakfast. It sounds grown up, which I find depressing. After today, I may be combining some of these actions into a whole new breakfast routine.

What am I talking about? The new toaster capable of burning the news, images, whatever... straight onto your toast. Truly, this is the greatest breakfast invention since breakfast. Don't want to look up the weather? Your toaster will tell you. Mad at your spouse but don't want to talk about it? Your toaster will tell them for you! Birthday greetings, anniversaries, to-do lists... all on toast.

I actually think this is as 'green' as breakfast can get. Truly, how much less paper would we use? Unfortunately, this product isn't in mass-production yet, though I will count the days until.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Word of the Day

"Garr" an extremely useful term one interjects when vocabulary becomes useless.

Some days I just wanna say, "Garr!". Not so much in the pirate sense, but in the 'my-vocabulary-has-no-means-of-processing-my-frustration' type of garr.

I'm garr about not wanting to turn my blog into a gripe-fest (and yet, successfully doing so!).

I say garr to the notion that we care more about molar decay in our society than moral decay.

I garr with a roar and try to scare the smoke from the skies (even my jedi powers are failing me in trying to remove it).

My jedi powers are failing me, so now I say garr.

The lady at the store was really rude to my kids and myself and I wanted to declare garr to her face (I didn't).

My house is in need of help and yet I sit here avoiding my duties in life. I need to find a mirror and garr at my reflection.

So, might ye join me in some good ol' pirate-speak? It eases the agression, and it will get you into practice before the actual "Talk Like A Pirate Day" arrives on September 19, 2008.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Ah, a blog!

Yup. I became one of them today. A 'Blogger'. Well, technically, I've blogged for years, but in old-school fashion- with a pen and paper (in a secret book that's stored in a secret room in a secret house where my alter-ego resides). The glory in still keeping a journal, you ask?? (I've never had a diary in my life, I refuse to call it a diary!) Secrets still remain, you can vent without guilt, sob about...? and plain ol' chat about whatever the heck is on your mind that you can't talk about. My journal has been where I've placed my dreams, of things to be and of wishes of things that should have been (or NOT have been).

So, to sum it all up, welcome to this blasted blog. I hope you enjoy. I don't know if I'll share much, or if I'll share too much, but check back now and again and find out.