Timmy & Johnny

I assure you, I've been trying to hold back...

I've just failed miserably.

Yes folks, it's 6 weeks until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is released and I am bursting at the seams with excitement. (This would be a good time to check out the link I have so lovingly provided, including the flash site... lots of fun toys on there.)

We know that when Timmy and Johnny team up there will be lots of quirks, peculiar affectations, unsettling scenarios and this time, a pale, creepy recluse clad in a deep red velvet coat and top hat. I know it's odd to admit but WOW... this is one children's book character that has an effect on me like no other... I'm only hoping that my local IMAX runs this as it is being released concurrently; IMAX and standard theaters. After seeing a 40 foot tall Burton-esque Wonka portrayed by the king of quirk himself, Johnny Depp, I'd best hope I don't slide off my seat during the show. Ahem...

Anyway... Factory Tours begin soon... while you're here, take a peek at the site address; have you seen any others starting like that with a '2' before the dot?

One helpful hint... when you watch the clip, turn your sound down if you don't want the song stuck in your head all damn day. Just fair warning...

It was the sunshine...

Today I did so much yet so little... what an odd day...

First, it was fabulously warm and sunny. I found myself wishing I'd worn capris to run errands as opposed to my jeans; especially when I learned that the air conditioner in my car has obviously died and gone to the big scrapyard in the sky.

Went to pick up my sexy-hot-nerdy-metro-mama black specs today. I've been waiting for sooo long to get them! Too bad the idiots 'forgot' to order the astigmatism correction for my left eye. Here's to another 7 days or so. How fucking brilliant are these people? Did they assume I wanted only partial vision?...

Especially considering that I told them I was leaving for vacation on Saturday, May 28th! But that's ok, my vacation has been cancelled as well. Eight days with nothing to do but, well, nothing actually. Other than burn up PTO time at work for a vacation I'm not taking. And pick up my specs. Again.

I did manage to get my car's gas tank filled for $1.99/gallon which is certainly a bargain prior to the holiday prices that are looming as I type.

Also used a nifty little program (for the first time), speakers and mic to talk with a far away friend! It was a bit odd at first talking to my computer and actually having it answer but I really enjoyed being able to utilize that little setup. We email often, and I'd never trade that, but being able to talk (of course for free) like that was wonderful. Really wonderful.

My mother is coming over tomorrow. Great. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, but this will place the dreaded triad in my very own space. Three generations of female LiVEwiRes all in the same house. At the same time. One unemployed, one unsettled, one out of touch and all three obstinate. Hey... anyone wanna come over and join in the festivities? Anyone? Help?

Got the chance today to get to some of the blogs that I've been missing due to some other circumstances. Everyone is so unique yet there is that one thing that unifies every single one. Not sure what it really is, but I'm glad it's there as I love reading all the posts and getting to know people through them.

Speaking of blogs. In case it crosses your mind to do so... please do not throw questions at me. I may panic. I understand the fun of it, and enjoy reading your responses, but if I get put on the spot I will not be mature. I will pout. Then I will answer them anyway and secretly hate you for sending them to me. I might even find a way to rip off your own arm and beat you with it. It will not be pretty. Have a goofy question you want me to answer? No problem; I can handle that. Just that getting hit with an unsolicited barrage of questions makes me edgy. No idea why, I'm just weird like that I suppose. That makes me sound like such a killjoy, which I'm not. Just hoping to avoid a possible awkward moment.

It's almost midnight and I still have tons of clothes and bags and miscellaneous crap strewn over my bed. Several hours ago I decided I'd do some summer closet organizing and get rid of things I no longer use. Pile for the garbage, pile for donation, pile that I somehow think I'll wear again but never will, pile to... well, you get the idea. Yeah. There are three choices here. I can (a) sleep on/in it (don't think I won't), (b) push it on the floor and have to start over tomorrow, or (c) just suck it up and finish it tonight. Well, I think I'll go for (c) and get it out of my way.

For as odd as this day was, I liked it. I had sunshine, Benny, and a good friend to talk to...
~

Things that go 'mew' in the night

He's back home!!!

My little furry man is back home! I worked late tonight and on my way out of the car at home, I heard this pathetic little 'mew'. Several times actually... just didn't see any cat to go with it. In the dark, he came from behind my garage, walked behind my car, and tip-toed over to the door. He was emmitting little sonar like 'mews', rubbing up against me and doing some odd sort of kitty jig.

Upon first inspection, he appears alright save for the fact that he is thinner and lighter. Considering that he is one hell of a hunter, I'd say he was trapped in a garage or shed and didn't eat or drink for 5 days; he was a hoover when I gave him his food. I'm letting him relax and feel something normal for tonight then I'll thoroughly inspect him tomorrow. With his history of illness I can't be too careful. An interrogation may follow...

I didn't think I'd be writing this post, that's why I wrote the other one... to start coming to terms with the fact that he may have been gone. Tomorrow is another day and we'll see what happens, but for tonight, I know where my little Benny is. Playing the role of 'King' right where he should be.


Again, thank you all for your comments. It is good to know that others have faced similar situations and lived to tell or just that they simply want to show their concern.

>^^<

A Hunter in the sky?..

First, I want to say thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. The reassurance helped me realize that although people suck at times, there are others that don't live their life that way. The particular person I posted about lived up to a stereotype but even though it was upsetting, I do believe (somewhere in me) that people can be equally as good. The worst part was feeling a fool... but I thank every one of you who commented. It helped more than you may realize.

So, I was actually holding off on posting until my frame of mind improved. Uh... that may be a while, so here we go...

Once upon a time, oh about 2 years ago, a cute little kitty (maybe 6 months old) came wandering over to me. He was cute and silly and would literally post guard around my rabbit's outdoor home in the summer like a whiskered sentry. If an animal (or leaf) came into the yard, he'd chase it away from her and go sit near her again. Oh his 'off' hours, he'd crawl through the flowering shrubs and sing loudly, pushing his face into the blooms as if serenading the pollen deep inside. I knew he lived next door and one day, the neighbors up and moved... leaving him behind. Well, the course was set and we became 'each others'. I named him Benny Orion... Benny (after a goofy radio show mall guard character, which fit well with his guarding of my rabbit) and Orion for the hunter... as he proved to be the mightiest of hunters. Off to the vet for a check up, testing and neutering and he was the picture of health. For a while. Then he got sick. Kind of sluggish at first, then raspy sounding. Well, it appeared to be an upper respiratory thing and he started antibiotics. Well, there were a few better days but then the bottom fell out. He had a temperature of 106F (keeping in mind that 108F = brain damage) that refused to break. I was up through many nights replacing ice packs and encouraging him to eat and drink. Nothing was working and after further testing, I learned he had Feline Leukemia. I had been a vet tech for 4 years and was able to do various treatments at home that most others wouldn't be able to do. This went on for weeks and after an appointment was made to put him to sleep, the doctor and I decided to try one last thing. We put him on high dose steroids and it saved his life. He had a few relapses, but was doing quite well. At his most recent check up, the doctor was amazed at his progress and retested him for the leukemia. It was gone! That is such a rare occurance! The vet explained that he had been practicing for 20 years and had heard of it but never saw it. My little Benny was one for the record books! As the weather got nicer, Benny wanted to go out. I'm not a fan of having cats roam outside but that was his 'thing'. I tried everything I could to tame the so-called beast in him and he remained the worst cat I've ever known. I threatened to kill him daily with my bare hands. Hands which he bit and ultimately scarred during what he considered a play session. His teeth were insanely sharp, yet he never clawed at me. Most things in my house have been somewhat damaged due to his ability to propel himself like a cannon ball. Something was always a little odd up in that orange and white head of his, but for as much of a pain in the ass I found him to be, he made me love him all the more. Even while threatening him with death. The fact that he beat such odds amazed me and I figure it was out of sheer stubbornness. That attitude was what also led to him becoming an indoor/outdoor cat. He was trashing everything and becoming unhappy at times... I could see the gears in his head indicating it. So the in/out thing worked like a dream for quite a while - best of both worlds. Until last Friday when I went to go see that band. He wanted in and I told him he could wait for the short amount of time I'd be gone and I'd let him in then. When I got home, he wasn't around. I kept checking and calling him, but he was nowhere to be found. I wasn't happy, but I figured that he'd be here waiting for breakfast bright and early. That was Friday... it is now Tuesday night. Still no Benny. I keep looking out the window, thinking I'll see him trotting up the sidewalk, but I don't. He may be locked in someones garden shed, hurt, or even dead. There is no way for me to know. But I am feeling the most intense guilt because if only I would have let him stay on the patio when I left then maybe he would be alright. My actions may have been the cause of whatever has befallen him. My chest is tight and I am fighting off tears constantly. I want my little pain in the ass back. I'm not sure if anyone has really bothered to read this in it's entirety, but I think I had to write it to get it out of my head, come to terms with the facts I know and perhaps to even say goodbye to him.
>^^<

Born-again Virgin

Ok, so here's an update for you...

Remember the guy I told you about meeting the other night? Well, I took the chance and went to the bar where his band was playing! Actually, the band was really good and he has a great voice. I was considering not going but then I figured I should just go and maybe, just maybe, I 'd have a good time. Stranger things have happened you know...

My lesson for the night? Men are fucking pigs! Although hopefully not in the literal sense.

(And I'll take this moment to apologize to the porcine species... that's not fair to them.)

I can't even look!

Okay, so I have this weird thing that has been currently bugging me... today it is the avian species.

For quite some time I have been unable to directly look at or acknowledge things that really bother me on a certain level. (I would take the time to explain what some of these things are, but it will make me sound cold, when in fact I feel this way because I kind of go into 'feeling overload'. It is the exact opposite but I'll feel the need to defend my thoughts and that is a crummy place to be in, so I shall refrain.) There are days that it comes upon me suddenly and other days where I can sense it's presence miles away. Today was one of those days.

Long ago I learned to turn my head and not look anywhere near an animal that had been hit near the road. Not because I can't stand the blood, but because I'm afraid I'll see it move. A stiff wind teamed with a flouncy squirrel tail has incited near heart attack conditions on more than one occasion for me in the past. Yes, in this instance I startle easily. My fear of this stems from several bad experiences in seeing a wounded roadside animal that was just hit. Trust me when I say that the images will haunt me forever. I've always loved animals, but some of this is based (in addition) on my contempt for humans as some of the things I saw were done out of carelessness and worse, some on purpose.

Sometimes, you can't turn your head though. This morning on my way to work, I saw 2 wild ducks hit on the road. One male, one female - easily noted by their feather patterns and colors; sweet little couple out for a morning stroll. They were directly across from a farm with a pond and it is known that they have tons of geese and ducks, domestic and wild. Anyway, they could not have been more than 3 feet apart from one another and they were directly in the path of the cars tires. Is it so hard to stop or slow down? I'm figuring there was no attempt to swerve either due to their positioning. My eyes caught sight of it before I could reroute them and avoid it. It was a windy morning. I'm not sure if feathers moved but I'd prefer to think of it as a direct result of the wind if they did. People are selfish idiots. Now the second incident involved a rather pretty yet unfortunate bird that met it's demise by flying into my patio window. I managed to miss it when I got home from work, but I saw it shortly thereafter. Again, with the wind, I didn't know if the feathery movement was voluntary or weather related. I managed to just grasp for the poor thing and found that it was in fact dead. Talk about a sigh of relief...

If you don't understand why this is so traumatizing for me, maybe you can try this. Imagine the scenario of the little bird I just told you about. Now when you pick it up, imagine that you are met with a weak squawking, lolling head, horribly bent wing, and partial paralization. Now imagine the terror it must be feeling in addition to pain. Now... what do you do? Do you leave it to suffer or do you bring death swiftly. And if so, how? Are you guaranteed it'll work? You are last thing it will know. Lots of considerations. Too many for me - which is why it overloads me and I try not to look. No, it doesn't change the fact of what has occured, but it may save me quite a bit of anxiety. There is a line in a movie (Kill Me Later) where Selma Blair, hard-edged as she may be at times, thinks back to why she is like she is... says she always wanted to peel the worms off the sidewalk to save them. I can identify. After peeling off so many worms it gets to you. It is overload and your remaining sanity may hinge upon avoidance of one the things you held most dear.

Besides, doesn't it bother you? The way I talked about the blatant disregard with the ducks? What about the responsibility and final kindness for the bird? Doesn't part of this ring true of how we interact with other humans?!? Can you really count on your fellow humans to treat you with much more respect than they would of these avian creatures? Just think about it; I'm not really looking for an answer to that. I think what upsets me the most is that I don't see so much of a line between the bird/human opportunity here. The potential for it stares us in the face every day with stories on abuse and neglect, yet for some reason most people tend to think it is completely unrelated. It is linked though, with patterns of behavior and acceptance of things that should be acceptable in no circle of life. These things remind me how fragile everything is and it can be a painful glimpse sometimes. I suppose that is what I'm getting now.

I'm stopping now as I had no idea I'd go on this long. This bothered me more than I'd even realized. Hmmm... I'm off to patrol the sidewalks.... even if it kills me in the end.

Its a miracle!!!!

Mark your calendars kiddies... I was extra nice today. My cousin was fighting with her man and she wanted to go to the bar for a few drinks. At 3 in the afternoon. We used to be close, but we've drifted apart in the past few years having it culminate in a screaming match (complete with death threats) involving police and many other family members ducking for cover. But I won't bore you with that. She called today and I went, as if nothing had happened. Granted, I had reservations, but her pain superseded all that had happened in the past. In the end? No idea... things are currently unresolved, but I tried my best to just simply be there for her. I hope I succeeded.

During this little outing, her man showed up and they went outside for a bit. Next thing I knew, a nice 'boy' came walking over and began talking to me. He said he could see that something was going on and he wanted to make sure everything was alright because I looked so sad. I explained that my sadness had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my cousin (which I thought was quite apparent since my tear stained cousin was the one that left briefly with the crabby boy). Anyway, we talked for a few minutes and I thanked him for his concern. Within 20 minutes he was back, making sure I was 'ok'. We introduced ourselves and just chatted for a bit. I learned that he is the drummer/singer in a local band (I've really been out of the loop) and happens to be doing a show at the same bar on Friday. I kindly told him I had to work the next day and he promptly gave me his Saturday schedule as well. I must be really, really dense. He leaves. He returns. In no way was he 'pawing' at me, but I did notice some lingering touches that I played off as a gentlemanly gesture (ie: a touch on the back as I passed in front of him, etc.). I did notice, though, that he kept looking at me. Eventually, he just looked me square in the eye and said, "My God, you're beautiful!"

Now, I don't say this to toot my own horn - far, far from it. I say this because I'm so used to avoiding and downplaying signals that this guy actually had to be that straightforward for me to realize that he was interested. Part of me wants to go for a bit this weekend, just to see. But I still can't get over my own inability to hone in on these signals when it pertains to me...

Is it fuzzy in here or is it just me?

A few posts back, I wrote about some side effects I was having after taking only 5 doses of a new drug. When I realized the problems I was having were directly related to the drug, I stopped taking it. That was how long ago? Ten or 12 days? So I've been off the meds for that long and for some reason I would have sworn that I could still feel a little bit of the effects. Anyway, I knew I needed to start them again (at a very low dose) and took 1/2 tablet last night, figuring I would quarter my daily intake. {{~ BUZZ ~}} Wrong answer!!!

Three guesses as to who got kicked in the ass by the stuff yet again!!! It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, but I could feel all the same things... limbs like slack, wobbly rubber bands, slight difficulty with speech, a really, really mellow yet happy-go-lucky attitude, and lest we forget the fuzzy tongue. Holy shit. I mean, it was like having a few drinks... so not entirely a bad thing. This does tell me that it must not have been cleared out of my system and that adding this 1/2 tablet, it 'reactivated' the entire process. This med could be such a good thing for me (I had no worries!) but I have to find a balance here; I still need to function after all. My theory is that I can just lick said tablet twice daily and that should be just about enough for a dose. Or sleep with it under my pillow. I mean come on... I work in pharmaceuticals... there should be SOME form of solidarity here between the me and the meds... sheesh!

I think my vacation is no longer. It is not official yet, but I'm about 90% sure. On the bright side... if I take enough meds, I won't care! =)

Off to the library tomorrow to find a new book... it is so wonderful knowing that by this time tomorrow, I'll be introduced to new people and places via my upcoming literary selection. I have no idea what I'll find there, but 24 hours from now my life will be changed, yet again, by another's words and imagination. Wonder what it'll be this time...

Is it ok to breathe again?

Whew.......

It has been one hell of a week. Somehow I found myself tightly nestled in the jaws of a twisted depression and I think it is finally lifting.

[Oh please, please, please... I swear I'll be good. Ok, I'll TRY to be good. Alright, I'll try not to be bad? Is that better? Slightly more realistic? Just no more of this shit for a while...]

It is not often that depression alone grips me. Being bipolar I happen to have mixed episodes which are comprised of both mania and a small amount of depression at the same time. Yeah, not real comfortable in the ol' skull I can tell ya'. Often I just go for mania, but this time, I got depression. Straight up. Neat. Whatever you want to call it... here's a pointer. Avoid it. Nuff said. So I'm just happy that it appears to be leaving.

So enough of all that... work sucks, vacation is still not planned and I'm supposed to be leaving in 2 1/2 weeks, and I'm getting an unfamiliar urge to shop. In another 150 pages or so, maybe less, I'll be scoping out a new book. That is so exciting for me. I think that probably ups my nerd quotient, eh? Ooh, and the fact that I go to the eye doctor tomorrow and officially order my nerdy black marbelized frames... when I get those, true book-nerddom can begin...

Life is getting good again....

Oh... just to prove that life is getting better... I found, at a local store, Starbuck's Mint Mocha Frappuccinos... haven't tasted them yet; I've got them chilling but I am simply salivating in anticipation... and I won a gift certificate to a local department store, and (unrelated) a close parking space for a month at work! Yay me!

Between Finding Focus

That is precisely where I am .

My nights have been avoidance; my days have been spent soaking in an invisible azure tinted with rotting black. It seeps deep into my core, or perhaps that is where it emanates from. So hard to say anymore.

I am the antichrist with a little less charm, I am the scared little girl lost and crying. The losses register, the words still sting. Melancholy abounds, entwined with the desire to be comforted, yet I keep my feet moving away. Away. From you. I make it my punishment.

If I could separate from myself, I would. Just for a while. Until the words come to be right again. Until I could believe in them again. I believe more in mine than I do in yours and that isn't saying much right now. For either of us.

When I am crawling out of my skin in an ethereal molt, staring over the precipice, I hope that I would be able to recognize my salvation and reach out to it. Or perhaps, by some form of unseen justice, it will reach out for me.


I am tired of fighting. But I'm too stubborn not to. Unfortunately my fight is sometimes with myself, not just you.
*

I think it was on Tuesdays.

That's when I became a book nerd.

So I had this strange little thing happen to me tonight at work. (Yes, the drugs are still using my receptor sites as stomping grounds, but it is easing up the slightest bit, for which I am grateful.) Anyway... I'm delivering the overnight IVs to our ICU department via our IV cart... similar to the Soul Train, but not quite as flashy... and I wasn't dancing. So I turn the corner from the main hall into the 'Employees Only' surgery hallway and it hit me. The smell. I don't know where it came from, or what right it had to be there, but it was over whelming...

All of a sudden I was back in second grade. I was in Library Class. Yes, back in the dark ages we honestly had a class for Library. I could actually smell the musty residue, the aging paper, and the worn, sometimes crumbling cloth bindings. Mr. McCoy, our librarian was sitting on a tall chair in his monochromatic ensemble du jour instructing us to select our books for the coming week. We'd scatter and I'd invariably end up in the far left corner alcove where the Nancy Drew books were shelved. I don't think I ever read a Nancy Drew book the whole way through. My attraction to that section was for two reasons. First, I could see everything else that was going on yet felt as if I were hidden away, left to browse the same books I did every week, actually. Second, it was the Nancy Drew section... need I say more?! Ok, yeah, I probably do... I used to watch the Hardy Boys on television and it starred one astonishingly cute boy... Shaun Cassidy. In the shows and books, they apparently teamed up for some underage detective work on occasion. That bit of knowledge was all I needed... I was sure that if I perused those pages every chance I had, that eventually a picture of this glorious boy in white polyester pants with feathered hair would manifest. It never did, but I never gave up on the thought that it might. That may have ended my career in optimism... But every Tuesday I sat, curled up on the floor, flipping through pages I knew I'd never read. Pages that had seen dozens of chubby little chocolate smudged fingers, found their way to and from school without ever leaving the safe confines of a bookbag, and were no doubt used to smack the boy you liked in the back of the head while riding the bus home. Books that you never thought to ruin or deface. Books that you knew would be there the next week; and the next. Mr. McCoy would call us all back to the center of the room after a short time and we would tell about the book we'd chosen. Each week, we all gravitated toward our favorites but Mr. McCoy never appeared to mind. He'd listen with great fascination as we'd excitedly tell the tale of the 'new' book we'd chosen, when in fact, it was the same as the one we'd opted for only three weeks prior. He knew this, but he never let on. He let us go on thinking that we were fooling him once again: every week, this charade played out. In the past, I have wondered what became of him. Did he maintain his patient yet encouraging approach to reading? Did he ever dress and match to more than a monochromatic palette? And most importantly, did he ever think that he might be the reason for me being the book nerd that I am today?

So that's what I smelled. Seriously... when I turned the corner into the surgery hall. I smelled books, my second grade library, all of it. Odd thing to smell in a hospital if you ask me, but it stopped me in my tracks. What a lovely thing to smell and what a magnificent memory to have surface. Thank you Mr. McCoy, wherever you are!

Izth Yuwr Thunng Thuzzy Thoo?

Some people spend their time on Sundays becoming one with sports or yard work. Not this LiVEwiRE... no, I opted for package D. That would be the package marked 'D' for Drug Side Effects. Holy shit and then some! Here's a quick rundown; feel free to laugh at my expense.

Friday night I started a new med... seemed fairly harmless. Ok through Saturday and into Sunday. The second half of Sunday was finding me a little uncoordinated... well, more than usual. Tried to drive to get Chinese take-out and found that someone had mysteriously replaced my power brakes with the non-power variety; you know, the ones you have to stand on to get the car to stop? Without warning, my car would rocket to ridiculously high speeds (such as 25MPH), leaving me to draw on my lightning fast reflexes (that are not there on a good day) to avoid crashing into fast moving objects that were darting out in front of me. These being mailboxes and traffic signs. I also believe that Sunday afternoon marked a new path in our relationship with the sun... no amount of protective eyewear was able to withstand the endless barage of these powerful rays leaving my retinas to whimper as the searing began. The remainder of the day went as such until I finally gave in and simply went to bed thinking it was just an 'off' afternoon.

Enter Monday morning. I can't see. Well, I can see, but it's constantly shifting and my ability to focus has gone. I'm quite sure that if I look in the mirror my tongue will be fuzzy and my lips will be vibrating visibly. My limbs are on strike and have each come to their own conclusion on how best to handle the matter; however, I'd like for them to come to an accord for a few moments... just long enough for me to pee as I've been sucking up water like a sponge. Uncoordinated barely covers it. This was one time in my life that I was glad to be a girl and that I had to sit to pee. Otherwise, there would be a lovely pattern of urine all over my wall, floor, fixtures, etc. It took a bit to figure it all out (oh yes, I'm a genius) but these are all side effects from my new med. I look and sound like I'm drunk. So here's the major drawback....

I had to go to work. I had to swallow my pride and have someone drive me there and pick me up. I hate having to depend on someone and I do not do it well. While at work, I walked like half of my body was aleep and talked like half my brain was asleep. During the few times where I passed visitors in the hospital, I said 'hi' (as I always do), but this time, this time was different. I felt like I looked and sounded like a crack hallucination combination of a second-rate drunken court jester and Neil Young. This is not a feeling I wish to emulate... ever.

So here I am, I made it home; still slurring and struggling like hell to see this monitor. I would hope that I'd wake up tomorrow and feel better, but I'm not counting on it. I'm not taking a defeatist attitude - this drug simply has a long half-life. What does this mean to me? It means that I have approximately 65 hours from my last dose until the drug is 1/2 way out of my system. Well how much more fun can a girl hope for? Anyone wanna come over and taunt me? Maybe spin me in circles? Show me optical illusions? And I get to go to work tomorrow, too - but driving is all up to me.

Moral of the story: Pay close attention to your meds. Even if you are given a 'normal' dose remember that you may react differently. Most importantly... don't ask anyone to feel your tongue just because it feels fuzzy to you.

Alas, the spell has been broken...

So many things of little or no importance, each trying to be the first one to play bumper cars with the neurotransmitter that will carry it's impulse to my fingertips and utter it's selected words first. Pushy little buggers, eh?

There is something that has come to my attention. Well, it didn't actually come to my attention, I suppose I formed it based on a passing thought of another person, but it really made me think. What is it that we have here in Blogdom? We find people that interest, amuse, and connect with us. But is it true that those people can only be found in another hemisphere?! Cuz' from where I'm sitting - that appears to be the case. Perhaps what I'm wondering is this - if I like 'talking' to these people overseas, does that mean that fun people are only from other countries, etc? If that's the case... there has to be others in my part of the US, right? Then where in the hell are they?! I think this is the part that bothers me... if they are here, why don't I find them? Could it be that I am not the open-minded person I thought I was? Do I put up barriers before even getting to know a person? Barriers that otherwise wouldn't be there in other situations, oh, say, like in Blogdom... I find it fascinating, though. What is the main difference? Obviously, there is no personal contact, yet people tend to tell quite a bit, so there is a high level of honesty. I use the word honesty loosely because given the option, most people would rather lie to your face than risk 4 seconds of feeling awkward. If someone is a liar, they will do it in whatever form is available: I'm giving the benefit of the doubt here... go with it.

I suppose I'm just wondering what makes me think so highly of those I haven't met. There are a few people in particular that I could link here, but I won't because that's really not my call to make. Just in reference to the fact that you are cool individuals, you know? And if I did that, and you commented and said how much I sucked... we'd be in a bit of a quandry. Not so much a quandry perhaps, but a 'restraining order' type of situation. I'd close that gap in Blogdom soooo fast.... oh, um, oops... Ahem. I'm just kidding (for the most part)....::::heehee:::::

Honestly, I'd be interested in your thoughts and comments on this issue. At one point in time, I thought I knew the answer. Then if you can tell me how to download these folks from an email, that'd sure be great! =)

Ok, so I'm adding this about 30 minutes after I posted the above piece...
Check out the music link in the sidebar for LimbLifter (yes, I giggle when I say it, too). They have a really cool site and full length songs on there in 'map' format (just look). They have an interesting sound and for those of you that follow music... Ryan (singer) used to be with Age of Electric. Check it out... it's fun to look at, at least. Next... Matt Good is 6 feet tall. Who knew?!?! Truthfully, I couldn't care less, I just always thought he was 5'8" or something. It doesn't matter one shitting bit, but it surprised me - interesting factoid, I suppose. The link between Limblifter :::giggle::: and Matt Good is that they have been working together on some music. One made me think of the other. Time to up the meds.....