Funny Friday: Rest in Peace Elizabeth Taylor

She had amazing violet eyes. She was devastatingly beautiful, and she could act. National Velvet, Father of the Bride and The Taming of the Shrew are among my favorites of her work. She was a champion for AIDS charity & awareness, at a time when few spoke about it - and she did so with compassion and logic. But when I saw this a couple of years ago, I laughed hard:

Black sheep bio., part 2

...continued from the earlier post...

I never fit in with the popular people in high school and I never wanted to. I just feel like I never completely fit in in any way or anywhere. Even my geeky tendencies aren't full blown - I was never quite smart or bookish enough. I was a Star Trek and Star Wars fan, but not someone who dressed up or learned Klingon jargon, though I might have enjoyed that. I'd read some Ayn Rand, but lacked brain power to engage the super smart set. My enjoyment of all that though, kept me from being absolutely a part of the fun-loving and lighthearted party people. I did hang out our at our school's smoking area (can you believe that a high school had a smoking area for students?), because I had been smoking since age 11 or 12 (another Baaalacksheep thing -cough). The smoking area was greatly populated by the stoner clique. So, I had a reputation as a stoner, when in fact, I never smoked pot or did drugs while at that school. I did smoke clove cigarettes, and maybe that confused some people. I was variously too rich, or not rich enough, too slutty, not slutty enough, too dumb or too smart, you get the picture.

The little hardcore punk scene in our city/town, was where all the punk misfit kids from various high schools came and hung out. It was often fun - we went to concerts (shows), wild parties, and did petty crimes (think grafitti, putting soap bubbles in fountains, borrowing golf carts), all in the name of our generation's brand of fun and teen rebellion. Big Daddy recently chatted with an old friend from those days and his friend said, we were like pirates - doing what we wanted, taking what we wanted, it was crazy. No one backed down from a fight, and there was plenty of brawling. They spray-painted graffiti on police cars right under the cops' noses. We were crazy, wild kids. We really did trash houses, hotel rooms, etc., and we weren't rock stars, we were hardcore. I remember feeling a strong affinity for the 'straight edge' movement, but never fully committed myself to that. Still, I embraced vegetarianism, eschewed my former promiscuity, protested racism, joined greenpeace. I fell in love with someone, and never would have thought that lasting real love was possible for people so young, but it was. A rift began to emerge within the little hardcore scene. As I understood it, a number of the kids were leaning towards white-supremacist beliefs and becoming more involved with all of that. At the time it seemed like some of the people I knew could overlook the racism because of the other things they had in common like the love of the music, shows and hanging out. I (We) just couldn't abide that, so I excused myself. But while it lasted - before those dark things crept in, it was wonderful, and I felt some kinship. Again these are the impressions of one person, and my own experiences. High school was ending, anyway, and people were naturally growing up and moving in different directions.

I spent a couple of years at community college before I went to Art School. Art school is a haven for black sheep. Need I say more? Probably not, but I will. It was great with free-spirits of all stripes and individuals of all types in abundance. I was beyond expressing myself through my appearance and sowing bunches of drunken wild oats, as some of my peers were, because I had already done so much of that when I was very young. I was in a stable, long-term monogamous relationship at a time and place where most people were growing up, falling in and out of romances, sensing freedom, partying and dating. My class was a very unique and varied group of complete individuals, each one of them like an interesting novel. We had some older classmates and some fresh out of high school, it was an interesting mix. Imagine the entire class as a a small library of great books. To be around all the talent of my peers and our instructors was incredible. It was a great time in my life.

Then my family began going through a crisis, a legal and criminal trial, and my parents wanted everything hushed, so I couldn't even really talk about it with people who were my friends, except my boyfriend. He became my fiance, he is my constant (hehe Lost reference) and my friend, and the guy I married and now call Big Daddy. While my art school peers were concentrating on learning and education, which what we were there for, I was torn apart by a family situation. It was a tragedy and a scandal, and it really affected me during my time at college and my work output. The trouble began my first year, and seemed to be minimal, but it escalated each year and by my final year, I felt I was a wreck in many ways. I never really shared it or could tell the entire thing to any of my peers, but I know I did talk a little about it with my roommate. My work and education suffered because of it. There were good times even in the midst of the trouble though, and our marriage happened during this time.

I became disillusioned with so many things. If innocent people could go to prison, if people who I thought were my parent's family, friends and colleagues could do such evil and underhanded things over greed, what was sure in this life? Not much. My family suffered though this crisis and the fallout took years and had a myriad of results. I feel like I slogged through that last year of school and graduated with my nerves frayed just to the point of splitting. I ran from art, piling on excuses about why I keep from doing it, and am only now regaining that part of myself. Other members of my family seemed to act out in other ways. Some never fully rebounded, while still others seemed to find a granite-like strength and resolve.

Many people come to Christ and have a religious experience and awakening when they are at a low point in their life. Though I had some troubles due to my family's legal burdens, in most other ways I was quite happy when I became a Christian. Again I was different from the deathbed and jail house converts, and I don't mean to lessen those amazing transformations, but I was like, ummm my life is pretty good but still I feel like there is something missing and wrong. I just always had a sense that something was missing in my life - it dogged me, and that is why I write it in bold italics. When I started believing in Jesus and looking into all of that, it was as if I found what I was missing, just like the old song, "I once was lost but now am found." I tried to fit in as a Christian - to become very conservative and traditional - but I'm never quite as conservative as the other Christians and I'm too Christian for my un-Christian friends. I threw myself into friendships with some of my husband's family members - because they were also Christians. I had some commonality with them at the time, like being parents of young children. In retrospect I see these were people with whom I had very little in common with other than that, and I can see now the friendships were now rather unadvised, probably for both of us. I really gave 'fitting in' a good shot but it didn't exactly work out. Still, I learn from all these experiences, I try to anyway.

Now I'm a minister's wife, so I am either put on a pedestal or sized up and found lacking. Some of our dear church people even call me 'first lady' which is sweet, but very weird to me, some think I can do now wrong and must be kept at a saintly arm's length. Still other people view me under a magnifying glass looking for every flaw to prove I'm not holy enough and just another hypocrite.

So all of this biographical blather began as I thought about that blog post at Tamera Out Loud. All I can say is that I am mostly at peace with being a black sheep nowadays. This is what I wrote under a reply over there:

The only place where I have ever felt I totally fit in with anyone are a few transcendental moments where, for one reason or another, I felt a tangible presence of God and His Fatherly love. That experience messed me up in a good way and carries me through. Carries me through what, you might ask? Everything. Now, there are times when my my husband comes so close – with this wonderful simpatico kind of lovely friendship-passion soul-mate thing we have.

I suppose that coming to God, believing in Christ and all of that - Christianity, being saved, having a spiritual awakening, all those kinds of names we call it, well, that is the circumstance and encounter within my life where I have felt truly and utterly 'home' and accepted and loved and understood. Being accepted by Him, now has been enough for me, so that when I feel misunderstood or lonely as I still often do, I know there is One loves me 'just as I am.' Baaaaa!

An Observation

In love,
the first cut is the deepest.
In the morning,
the last sip is the sweetest.
Of coffee that is,
if you haven't stirred it thoroughly.
But it's a very nice thing,
to have the best at last.

Funny Friday

Wasn't it Tolstoy who said:
"Normal families are all alike;
every fanboy family is geeky in its own way."




God love 'em for letting their freak flags fly!

Courtesy of Awkward Family Photos.

Warning: "This May Get All Jesus-y and S#*T"

Does that title shock you? Well, it does shock me a bit. But also, to be honest, after that first moment of shock subsides, it makes me smile. It's kind of funny. It's irreverent, and I find irreverent humor refreshing at times. Is it sacrilegious or blasphemous? I don't think so. I can see that the above statement would offend some people. I think it would grab other peoples attention, though, and draw them in. I think it has a certain effectiveness within their audience, which is the point of it.

My impression is that the blogger who wrote what I quoted in the title above was striving to describe themselves and their corner of the blog world, and that statement was exactly their honest credo in regards to their blog. When I came across that statement on their blog it gave me pause for three reasons: the small initial shock, the sly humor that melted my shock into a wry little smile, and the fact that on two different Christian discussion boards I was 'hearing' a conversation about cussing and Christians. (Someone on those discussion boards even linked another blog article, see here.) It got me thinking about my own opinions about profanity and the Christian lifestyle. I think there is this trend within Christian circles today to want to really shrug off the perceived old-time, stuffy religious attitudes and postures in an effort to prove how relevant Christianity [still] is. In this definition relevant equals hip, and hip equals the practices of those who are generally respected as movers and shakers within our culture. As I stated earlier, I don't think that the author of the quote I used in the title had that intention at all, but it got me thinking about all of it.

I came to Christ within a church that was strict and traditional in many ways. The lines between my sinful pre-Christian self and redeemed post-Christian self were clearly drawn, and gladly forsaken, it's important to note. I delved into my new-found faith with zeal and love. Back then as I began to read the Bible on my own, my convictions over that juxtaposing of former and latter self seemed to be backed up. I really did feel like I was a new creature when I came to believe in God, and I was so pleased when I read somewhere in the Bible something exactly along those lines (see here). I also read other scriptural verses on ethical conduct of all kinds. I also recall reading a passage about avoiding coarse language and joking (here), to be separate from worldly practices (here), all making a very strong argument for the necessity of a Christian to avoid cussing. For me it was a no-brain-er.

Now I live in a post-modern world that is super aware of its post-modernity (here and here). Things are emerging and emergent (!!??!!), what's a person to do? Cuss just to prove they are not a phony? Pepper their communication with four letter words merely for the sake of liberty? God forbid! Or should we still be pressing toward and seeking to attain our more humbler, noble Christian selves? The latter is exactly what I think, and what I am trying to do in my own life. I think we Christians should all be tearing away all the ugly, sinful, unChristian and worldly layers, no matter how big or small the sin. We ought not to celebrate or otherwise revel in our vices and flaws, not winking at them or excusing them, we should be always concerned with peeling them off. When we think we have mastered one fault, flaw or sin - through Christ's Grace and help - then we should go on to the next one. For me the difference between a religious attitude and posture and reverent and humble attitude is that humility does not draw attention to oneself but to Christ - flaunting my liberty is different than actually having liberty.

Now I will leave you with my own opinion and not a biblical stance, because the Bible stance I referred to above is clear. I wrote this on another post: Someone said, "Profanity is the effort of a feeble mind to express itself forcibly." Mark Twain said, "When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear." Can we all agree that cussing is so common it has lost some of its meaning, and then agree to do it infrequently so that it will actually be shocking again, or dare I even say appropriate in the rarest of situations? Remember when Rhett Butler told Scarlett O'Hara, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"? It became the most remembered and quoted line in movie history, and because it was so shocking and so perfect for that situation. If we are going around daily and making such statements they are no longer effective and meaningful. If you want to express yourself forcibly, and let's face it, there are some unusual occasions where we could argue that one might need to, then make sure you clean up your vocabulary and only let the foul language fly when very, very upset on the rarest occasions. How much more shocking would it be, on those angry and painful occasions if you didn't curse? Think about it. If you find yourself very, very upset often, that is symptomatic of another problem you need to let God work on.

What Calvin Ate...

Well for some reason last spring (or summer?), when he was well over 6 years old, and certainly knew better, my youngest child Calvin decided to swallow this smooth, magnetic marble. It was part of one of his toy sets. It took a full eight days for it to pass through his system and land in the toilet with a heavy and relieving kerr-plunk. It caused no adverse effects because it was small and smooth. I thought of it when I read about Jorge Garcia's recent ordeal when his puppy ate a staple. Thank the Lord his pup is OK - their situation was quite serious. Ohh, how our little ones worry us sometimes. Below is the picture of it, which I sterilized in bleach, and then put in a bag. It's tarnished now. Haha. The key and the penny are just for a size reference.

Work Space - Before & After

Part of my problem is that when my family went through what it went through, I chose a coping mechanism that is no longer helping me cope and certainly isn't productive. I have really been trying to break through and overcome that, and I cannot stress enough that it's by God's grace and help. This is my story and He's an essential part of it, so I cannot shy away from that aspect. If you aren't a Christian and are reading this, just bear with me and maybe I can explain it. Many people believe in coincidences but I do not, I believe they are "God things" - something He sends your way to get your attention. It can be a gentle reminder OR a kick in the butt to get on the path you're supposed to be on. God sent me these messages variously and in other ways, but the three that apply to what I am thinking about today are my being introduced to The Artist's Way, Geninne's Art Blog and the TV show Clean House. These are tools and things that woke me up and got me moving when I was finally ready to change.

I have always been a bit messy. When I was going through situations with my family, my father's sad and unfair circumstances, the raging and erratic addiction(s) of other loved ones and all the pain and turmoil these circumstances caused, I was trying to cope and be strong on the outside. My messiness got out of control. On the inside I was hurting, and as best as I can see it from my own armchair psychological diagnosis, I let the interior of my home just grow with clutter and messiness that was sort of a manifestation of all the confusion and mess I felt about the situations that were hurting me. But I could always clean up my home, I could not clean up any of the messes that my family was in, those were beyond my control.


I still mopped, vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, generally kept house, but I let stacks of things pile up and overtake areas of my home. I also couldn't part with things, no matter how unsentimental, or unusable they were. I had a 'I might need it someday' mentality. You can imagine how I did not part with sentimental and personal things if I was holding on so strongly to the unsentimental things. I never refused anything people gave me, whether or not I liked it or could use it. It was one of my ways of avoiding things within myself, because I couldn't let myself take the time to do art or anything 'for me' if my house needed serious attention. There is a hierarchy of things that need tending to in my life. The house came after my family, and I don't need to tell you that there is always plenty to do to take care of family first. Then of course, we are in the ministry, so any type of ministry and doing good for others ought to come before anything I might want to pursue. My little mania and foolishness (as Neicy on Clean House calls it) became crystal clear when I moved here, and was on a steady (albeit slow) path of emerging from this stuff that was blocking me. I set up an art space in my room and repeatedly began to let thing pile up on and in front of it rather than use it. I was blocking myself.



I still struggle, I'm not going to say otherwise. I thank God I am not where I used to be, even though I am not exactly where I'd like to be. I'd like to be as productive as someone like, say Geninne (see above link) or my friend E. who is a working jewelry artist. I used to let my dissatisfaction over what I was not doing paralyze me from what positive steps, however small, I was actually taking. Now I celebrate the small victories and don't agonize over the setbacks in the same unproductive way. I still have a long way to go, but I want to show today how things are. Things are looking up.

Japan & Hawaii, The West Coast of North America

...Are in my thoughts and prayers. Just a very quick link off the top of my head, to send help, Save The Children is another good organization.

Please, will you join me in praying together as you read the following?
A Prayer After the Earthquake (*originally circulated after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti)












LORD, at times such as this,
when we realize that the ground beneath our feet
is not as solid as we had imagined,
we plead for your mercy.

As the things we have built crumble about us,
we know too well how small we truly are
on this ever-changing, ever-moving,
fragile planet we call home.
Yet you have promised never to forget us.

Do not forget us now.

Today, so many people are afraid.
They wait in fear of the next tremor.
They hear the cries of the injured amid the rubble.
They roam the streets in shock at what they see.
And they fill the dusty air with wails of grief
and the names of missing dead.

Comfort them, Lord, in this disaster.
Be their rock when the earth refuses to stand still,
and shelter them under your wings when homes no longer exist.

Embrace in your arms those who died so suddenly this day.
Console the hearts of those who mourn,
and ease the pain of bodies on the brink of death.

Pierce, too, our hearts with compassion,
we who watch from afar,
as human beings suffer (*as the poorest on this side of the earth)
find only misery upon misery.
Move us to act swiftly this day,
to give generously every day,
to work for justice always,
and to pray unceasingly for those without hope.

And once the shaking has ceased,
the images of destruction have stopped filling the news,
and our thoughts return to life’s daily rumblings,
let us not forget that we are all your children
and they, our brothers and sisters.
We are all the work of your hands.

For though the mountains leave their place
and the hills be tossed to the ground,
your love shall never leave us,
and your promise of peace will never be shaken.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
Blessed be the name of the Lord,
now and forever. Amen.

Copyright © 2010, Diana Macalintal.
Permission is given to reprint for non-commercial use.
Original source: Website of the Roman Catholic Diocese of San Jose, California.
http://www.dsj.org/being-catholic/worship/a-prayer-after-the-earthquake-in-haiti


Jesus Wept statue photo by Termin8ter

House-wifery

I used the title in another post an liked it so much. It deserves to be a title, and have its own little chapter. Like Little Wayne coining "bling-bling" and BigPapa Skin and Russell P coining "O-Town" for Orlando, I am hereby coining "house-wifery" as my invention. I'm staking that claim, putting the eB flag in it and saying - it's my word ya'll.

The first post on house-wiferey will be dedicated to mystery smells, those odorous offenses that occasionally (I hope) torment our homes. Right now I am smelling a gym-sock smell in one corner of the living room and have yet to discover the source. This is probably a very inappropriate post for a blog, a bit sickening, not to mention boring and un-readable. I will probably never even post it. But on I write, wondering if anyone else has similar problems with mystery smells. I just know there is one little rolled up sweaty something stuffed somewhere hard to see, making me suffer. Making me check my own feet, making me spray the carpet with chemicals, dig under furniture and making me sneeze from dust bunny inhalation.

photo by Brianfit

just some favorite songs - spiritual

Since I did the secular songs a few weeks back, I now shall share some of my favorite spiritual songs which are vastly more important in my life. Hard to pick out just a few, but here is a little start, I'm sure I'll post more another day, another time.


I like Greg Long's version of this song (it's his) best, I like how vulernable his voice sounds in the beginning. The album this comes from "Jesus Saves" is actually one of my favorites and one of those 'go to' albums, it's just good, so good.

Ashley Cleveland - What a voice! I was looking for artist and performance videos, but I couldn't find one for this song. It was the first song of hers I recall hearing and it wowed me with awesome respect for God, or should I say it wowed me with humble respect for an Awesome God! (It also gave me hope that there were some really good Christian artists and musicians out there.) Check out her version of "Gimme Shelter" which better than The Stones, yeah, I know people will doubt my humble but accurate opinion, If you listen to it you'll see why I have that opinion.

There is no artist like Rich Mullins, not before and not since.
Talent + integrity = the real deal.

"Saved" by Dylan just moves me - makes me joyful and reminds me of that day when I woke up to the truth and wanted to just jump for joy. This video clip barely shows Dylan and highlights the band which is great - they need to he highlighted. But it makes me wonder if this was the 2nd camera footage meant to be edited in later on, or if it was filmed by friends or relatives of the band.

Black Sheep, a biography of sorts, part 1

"There's a lot of things about me you don't know anything about...things you wouldn't understand, things you couldn't understand. Things you shouldn't understand. You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner... a rebel."

The above quote is from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and for me it has always been somewhat of a signature. *I think* am all of those things (except that I am a girl not a guy) wrapped up into one kind of nerdy, geeky person. If you know about Pee-Wee Herman, then you know he is not what your mind conjures up when you first think, "REBEL." The Sons of Anarchy are rebels, the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse is a rebel, those are some dangerous characters. James Dean, Marlon Brando, Cyndi Lauper, Jane Fonda, Patti Smith, Dorothy Parker - all pop-culture rebels of one kind or another (we're not talking Che Guevara, MLK or Ceasar Chavez here). I was never that cool, (or that righteous). I concede I was a little cool, just a tad, as my Mom would say, not about my coolness but when she wanted a little more martini from the shaker, or a little more lasagna from a pan. I was never the coolest person you knew, or I knew. Anyway, I'm writing about this because I read and entry called The Parable of the Black Sheep over on the Tamara Out Loud blog and she ended with the question, "Have you ever felt like the black sheep?" (Girl, don't get me started!) "Where have you found people or places that you fit in?" She got me started. Rather than hijack her replies I felt like elucidating (Read: BLATHERING on) about this subject because it's one of those journaling and working through my stuff things, and after all, that's why I started this little corner of the internet. So here this goes, it's long it's personal and it just might bore you to tears, and believe it or not, this is the edited down version.

Why do I think I'm a black sheep, loner and rebel? I just don't feel like I have ever fully fit in anywhere. For starters, I was adopted. So, from the very beginning of my life I was a little different from everyone else among my family, friends and peers. Other people made some kind of note of that fact, usually positive, and my parents always made me feel special, loved and wanted. They were a wee bit older than most of my friends' parents, another distinction, but not radically so. I was blessed with great parents. They sent me to very good schools and provided for my brother and I many good things, experiences and lessons. I'm just talking now of the factors in my life that I believe contributed to my being different but believe me, my life was far from negative.

A couple of years ago it dawned on me how often we moved as my Dad climbed a corporate ladder and followed his career path. I lived in three different states, I went to eight different schools, lived in five different houses and three different condominiums. We also had a small and cozy summer place near a lake in Pennsylvania, which became a blissful haven for me as one unchanging little nook in the midst of all our moves. I had a good friend that lived nearby, and plenty of woods and the lake to explore. It was a favorite place until my family finally sold it. Our many moves took place all through my schooling years (kindergarten-high school). I was the new kid more times than I care to remember. I never really fully fit in, though I did make some good friends along the way, but people already had established friendships before I came along to whatever school, neighborhood or group. And they had those same kinds of friendships after I moved away, and when you move away, no matter how good your intentions, contact tapers off and the close relationships aren't quite the same, and that's also true of my extended family.

I began acting out in my pre-teen and teen years, some of that could have been from the moves, but I can't say for sure. Some of it was due to other darker things that I don't need to go into, but those things had an affect on me. I was sort of a poor little rich girl, or more accurately a poor little upper middle class girl. I began getting into the usual troubling things that sidetrack or derail teenagers, looking for some kind of comfort. I can see now in retrospect it was a spiritual search within me as well, but at the time I didn't realize that. It was also that garden variety teen angst that hits almost all of us in some form, along with the colliding of the culture and politics of the day: growing up, waking up, flexing the muscles of independence and person-hood. I fell in love with music even more, and found some comfort and solace within the heavy metal and punk rock genres that were emerging in sight of my affluent middle class radar.

Then I found the hardcore music scene of the early-to-mid-80s. That was definitely one of the places where I felt I fit in better than anywhere else. By the time I got to my 3rd and final high school, I was the first person with a notable punk rock look. At the time, that school was in a semi-rural, agricultural area of the state. So I was not lovingly embraced by the locals. I spent the previous semester at another high school on the east coast, and it was a dreadful time for me, in some ways a rock bottom. Right before that I went to school in the San Francisco Bay Area of California. I loved and missed that place, but mainly my old life there and some very dear friends. It was a difficult time for me with that move.

In my new school, it was culture shock for me (and them). I was no Lisbeth Salander-style punked-outcast by any stretch, but I was odd and different for that time and that place. I was treated with some disdain by all but a handful of people, at first. Things did get better though. I made some friends - and even found some that embraced punk, together we discovered the hardcore scene and a larger group of punk/hardcore people from various high schools around our county and the neighboring ones, I found a little niche for awhile. That's probably where I felt most "at home" but I still was kind of an outsider, a late-comer, and never 100% fitting in. I was the weird girl who liked Fleetwood Mac and Black Flag, I remember catching a little flack for it. I think living near beautiful San Francisco for several impressionable years, and the 70s era I grew up in, probably influenced this huge soft spot I have for hippy culture and values - and I lean that way in some respects. That was a little incompatible with some aspects of the hardcore scene at the time. Remember - punk and hardcore were a reaction to the kind of music, lifestyle and ideas that came before each respective genre. Hardcore itself was a reaction to punk, but you didn't come here for a mini-music history lesson (or did you?). Back then, punk and hardcore music were the antithesis of hippy music culture. My Allman Bros. affection and Stevie Nicks admiration were under wraps when I ran with certain crowds, except with the most trusted and open-minded of friends.
to be continued...

Hodgepodge

I found this very cool photography/art site and had to share:
Hundreds of Tourist Photos Weaved Into One. Do scroll to the bottom of the page when you are done and click on some of the other art projects, many of the projects are G-rated and cool.

Truths For Mature Humans(I tweaked the original one that went around via facebook, email forwards and blogs)
1. Ask yourself, is it true, is it kind, and/or is it necessary before you pass along any information.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet? (After years of trial and error, house-wifery, & some semi-OCD tendencies I have actually come to terms with that one, sort of.)

6. Was learning algebra really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on # 5. I’m pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

9. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren’t going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don’t want to have to restart my collection…again.

13. I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. “Do not machine wash or tumble dry” means I will never wash this – ever.

15. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What did you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run away?

16. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone I know the entire day. What a waste. Conversely, when I leave the house in my sweaty, bleach marked housework/work-out sweats, on a quick, unplanned trip to the post office, or to grab one quick item from the store, I know I run into plenty of people I know.

17. I keep some people’s phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

18. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

19. I appreciate kindness now more than ever.

20. I wish Google Maps had an warning for bad neighborhoods and areas of town; and excessive and lengthy construction zones.

21. Sometimes, I’ll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it. Same goes for songs.

22. There is no reason to make low-rise jeans for plus-sized people. I am plus-sized and I don't appreciate it, in fact I'm tired of seeing low rise on any body size.

23. Irregardless is not a real word, can we please agree to stop its usage?

24. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

25. How many times is it appropriate to say “What?” before you just nod and smile because you still didn’t hear or understand a word they said?

26. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

27. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

28. Someone said, "Profanity is the effort of a feeble mind to express itself forcibly." Mark Twain said, "When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear." Can we all agree that cussing is so common it has lost its meaning, and then agree to do it infrequently so that it will actually be shocking again, or dare I even say appropriate in the rarest of situations?

29. There’s no worse feeling than that millisecond you’re sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

30. As a driver I'm annoyed by pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I'm annoyed by drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I'm usually annoyed by (and fear) bicyclists.

31. Sometimes I’ll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

32. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey – but I’d bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!


Would you add anything?