Snowzilla - won't this be fun when he melts...

This morning, my kids were packing for their trip to Mexico. Lily found some little girl nail polish and put it on and was showing me proudly that she had "painted" her nails all by herself. Then it came off one nail and started peeling off of another. This was obviously not REAL nail polish. She came in the bathroom and asked me, "Mom, where's the stuff to take this stuff off? It is starting to come off and it is BUGGIN'!!"

Now I've heard everything.

Ok, here is a story of an irritating interaction I had last week.

I was on my way home from work last Friday and I was going to get ready for my company Christmas party. I realized that I needed to get ones as gambling was involved in the festivities that night and it was already after the bank was closed, so I figured I would take my chances at the neighborhood Plaid Pantry. I had a $50 bill and about $8 in ones. I went in and grabbed a sugar free Red Bull. The guy behind the counter had been on the phone since before I had entered the store. I went up to the counter and was looking around for a lighter. There were none in sight. I was standing right in front of the cashier looking like, well, looking like a person who was LOOKING for something. He didn't even stop talking to ask me what I was looking for. So, I took off down the aisles alone searching, searching, searching... And then I thought, wait a minute...why am I wasting MY precious time searching for something that this guy obviously knows the location of. I was trying to accommodate the dude on his phone call. So I marched back up to the counter and stared at him. He got off the phone and I asked him where the lighters were. This was his response:

"We don't have any. We have some back here. We don't have any Bics. We don't have any cheap ones." Huh? First of all, what do I care if they are Bics? Secondly, a cheap one? How expensive are they? Do I look like I can't afford a lighter? He was acting like he didn't want to sell me one. How much could they be? $30? So I asked, ok, how much are they? He said, "Umm...well, we have one for $1.29, another for $1.39 and another for $1.99, or something like that." Whoa, talk about breaking the bank. So I said, "ok then give me 2" (I was going the big spender angle.) I pulled out my $50 and gave it to him. "I can't take that, " he said. "People have been in here trying to bust out (I can't remember the exact terminology he used, but it was I think some street way of saying passing counterfeit bills) 50's" "What?" I said with a dumbfounded look, "You have got to be kidding me. I just need some ones." The tab was $4 and change. I was irritated and mumbling under my breath as I pulled out my precious ones. I said something to the effect of - I need ones and you are taking them from me. You are not helping me at all.

Needless to say, I was irritated and had not accomplished my goal at all. I went home to get ready. About a half hour later, Joseph arrived and I was telling him how I had no luck getting ones and that I had actually spent some of the ones I had. "It's ok. I got 20 ones," he said, "I stopped by the Plaid Pantry and the cashier was bitching about how everyone wanted ones and that someone was just in there trying to break a $100 bill and get ones."

That little liar. I had a $50. He totally exaggerated. Too funny. Well, I guess by then it was funny.

And no one needs to start harassing me about why I would need a lighter. I have plenty of candles at home...

I finally got to have dinner at my favorite restaurant, the Bombay Cricket Club, last night. My family is in birthday season, which begins in late October and runs through early December.

Both my sister and I tried to make dinner reservations at this restaurant on our respective birthdays, but ended up being turned away because of their inability to accommodate groups of more than 5 or 6, unless we were able to be there by 5pm. This has been a bummer (especially after a disappointing visit to Marrakesh on my birthday) as their Indian cuisine is sooooooo yummy. The down side is that the Bombay Cricket Club is frequently compared to the establishment owned by the "soup nazi" from Seinfeld.

When I called Wednesday to make the reservation for Thursday, I was very sly about it. I said oh, we have 4 adults...and then very quickly...and 3 kids. He hesitated. Can we come in at 6:30? He said, I can't do anything after 6pm. I was on the computer instant messaging my sister to make sure that she could be there by 6. He said, you can call back later. I said, oh no, it's fine, we will make it by 6. Ok, he said, but I just want to let you to know that we do not seat anyone until the entire party arrives. I knew this, because once Jen and two of her friends had been made to sit outside at a mini table to eat dinner, because one of them had arrvied late. But we don't complain. We continue to eat the food, savoring every bite and drink the amazing mango-ritas (no more than two or a cab will be necessary). We make sure that we always make reservations and we are always on time. Anyone who knows me, knows that is no small feat.

Everyone loves the food there, but the comments regarding the restaurant have a common thread - good food, bad service. Entries such as this abound on Citysearch, "If the chef, Mahksood, was running both the front of the house as well as creating the beautiful dishes he already makes, this would be my favorite restaurant. Unfortunately the dining area exists now as a fascist state. Trying to take your time, splitting entrees, or showing up a person short will all get you hated on. I've never experienced that kind of uncomfortability anywhere."

I made sure that we were all there by six to celebrate Grandpa Bob's birthday. I made phone calls to everyone in the party emphasizing the need for promptness. I couldn't stomach (pardon the pun) the idea of being greeted by, "Sorry, you are late - NO CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA FOR YOU!!"

It was delicious.

I don't remember the last time that I was engrossed reading an article in Popular Science, but I found this one on the quest for colored bubbles to be fascinating.

I took my son to get a haircut last night and while at the salon, I was perusing the beauty products.

I noticed a sign that said something to the effect of: These are REAL (insert brand here) products. Guaranteed to be real.

Is there some black market out there of Paul Mitchell shampoo knock-offs that I am unaware of?

I have taken on Thanksgiving this year. I big undertaking I know, but I do have the biggest space for it. I am just realizing now however, that I may not have enough plates for everyone. This is due to the unfortunate tumble I took down my back patio stairs 2 summers ago while carrying 5 fiestaware plates. They all met an untimely demise. How many people have to go plate shopping the day before Thanksgiving? I could always use paper plates...go the My Name is Earl route... ha ha.

Why am I such a last minute person? I am trying to cram in a 20 hr. continuing education course in today. I should have done it last week, so now I am studying practically 20 hrs straight to try and get this done. Brilliant Sherlock.

This is why I love my new house. I haven't grown tired of this view yet.

To everyone who is wondering...YES...I have a bruise on my chin. Now, why would I have a bruise on my chin, you ask, and how exactly would that happen? Simple, I reply. My injury was caused in a game of laser tag. That's what you were thinking isn't it? It makes perfect sense.

I was trying to figure out how to work Joaquin's birthday gift (a set of laser tag weapons and goggles). Joseph and I decided to try and figure out how these things worked the other night after the kids went to bed. Joaquin had tried to play with them earlier, but had become frustrated because they were so complicated. After we kind of figured out how to use them, we were playing around a little bit in the kitchen with them. An earpiece tells you "you are out" when you have been "hit", a phrase I was hearing way too much. In an effort to hide, I ducked down behind the kitchen counter to take cover. In my adrenalin rush, I forgot about the stools at the counter and hit my chin on one as I ducked down with such force, that I am surprised that a bruise was the only result.

Somehow I think I wouldn't make the best soldier.

The kids had their birthday party on Sunday. Both kids, two parties in one.

There were many pre-party preparations involved, house-cleaning and getting crap together lilke decorations, pizzas, cakes, etc. I also decided that I needed to get Lily a bed and get it set up BEFORE the party. What a pain I am once I get my mind set on something. This involved borrowing a very unreliable truck and driving all around town in the rain and dealing with tarps and carrying matresses in the rain. This was all done under an enormous time crunch. Not the best idea I've ever had.

However, the party went well. There were donkey tails pinned throughout the living room (and on Henry's chest) and balloons all over. We almost had a near crisis when Lily's hair caught fire as she was blowing out her brithday candles. Luckily thanks to her quick-thinking 10 year old cousin Maya, her hair was rescued and everyone ate cake as if nothing had happened (I have since taken her to get her hair trimmed). The windows did need to be opened to allow for ventilation (smell of burning hair=not pleasant), but all in all I would say that the event was a smashing success - at least according to a certain 6 year old I know.

I took my son to a cub scout meeting on Wednesday evening. I am personally ideologically opposed to some of the things that the Boy Scouts espouse, but he has been begging and the little dude won't drop it. I'm pretty sure they won't turn him into a homophobic proselytizing young man, or at least I hope not. So after weighing the pros and cons of his participation, I decided that it would probably do him more good than harm and we went to St. Andrews church to check it out.

He loved it of course, so now we are signing up and I guess I have a little cub scout.

I am in need of more time. I have no time to get things done. I'm not very sure if I use my time wisely, but that can hardly be the point, can it? If someone would kindly tell me where I can get some extra time and how much it costs, it would be greatly appreciated.

I find this person's blog very entertaining:

The Stupidity of People

He does rant a little sometimes, but there are some gems in there.

I know, I haven't been posting enough. Can it be there aren't enough interesting things going on with me? Nah... Besides having the stomach flu (a great quick start weight loss plan, by the way) for a couple of days, things haven't been terribly exciting. I am sitting here waiting for some adult, any adult to show up here at home so I can go out and see my (imaginary) boyfriend play the blues.

So what is the appropriate answer to the following question:

"Mom, what are carrots made out of?"

Is it...carrots? Because that was the best I could come up with. Mom always has all the right answers...

I am excited. My kids are starting to settle in at their new school and their new neighborhood. They are starting to have "play dates". Now, I never had play dates as a child. I never had "sleep-overs" either. I did go and play at my friend's house and stay the night, but it seems like now we need special terms for everything. Anyway, I don't know about who is more excited that Max and Charlotte are coming over after school tomorrow, me or the kids...ok, I probably think they are a little more excited, but I am just happy to see them making friends that only live 5 blocks away. This is a perk of the neighborhood public school.

The Christ I'm Chuck situation is building up. Check out the latest: http://juniorrocker.blogspot.com/2005/10/gig.html. This is gonna be the best show...EVAAAHHH.

I am involved with temperamental musicians. Fickle diva-men. I have booked a band for my costume party next week. Not a REAL band, not Dave Matthews, or Aerosmith, or Journey. It's a middle-aged, wanna-be rockers, gotta schedule a practice in between work, kids, and soccer practice kind of band. What could possibly be so difficult about dealing with these guys? Christ I'm Chuck, they are called or should I say, "Christ, I'm a pain in the ass" (of course, if that were the band's actual name, my buddy Chuck would then be excluded and that would hardly be fair would it?).

Earlier this evening, I was informed that - Houston, there was a problem. The drummer wasn't going to play the gig because the bass player will not be in town. Apparently, drummers don't like to play without a bass player. It just doesn't sound good. Go figure. I had to get on the horn and stroke the drummer's gentle ego, entice him with promises, compliment him and reassure him that all would be well. Eventually, Chuck stepped up and found a replacement bassist. Crisis averted.

So now all we need to do is provide the drummer with a private dressing room, personalized robes for all of the band members, a vase of pink flowers on the drum stand, and a bowl of all orange M&Ms and we shouldn't have any problem.

The show must go on!!

I am terrified for the future of our society. I went into Papa Murphy's to get a pizza the other night and I was paying for the pizza. The total was $15.26 or something like that. I pulled out a $20 and handed it to the girl. "I have .26 cents" I said, reaching in my pocket. That way, I would get $5 back and not 4 ones and a bunch of change.

She looked at me in a panic, "I'm sorry, but I already put it in..." as she looked down at the cash register. I realized that what she meant was that she had already punched in the amount received as $20.00 and the cash register had already told her the amount of change to give me. She was unable to figure out the math to take my change and give me the $5.

"It's allright," I smiled, thinking - this chick's elevator doesn't go all the way to the top. My mind was racing... Could this possibly be happening? Have we gotten to the point that we can't figure things out without a machine telling us the exact change to dole out? Do they teach problem-solving skills anymore? Is this a sign of what is to come, or is she just slow? Am I over-reacting? And then the fatal... I must be getting old if these little interchanges bother me.

Sometimes, I need to be quiet and not think about things too much.

Unwittingly, Lily has become my new personal trainer. She has decided that she no longer will ride in an elevator. Thus, trips to the office, parking garage, etc are now trips that involve climbing multiple flights of stairs. She made the decision that she wants to avoid the possibility of getting stuck in an elevator. Good for her!!

I'm certified!! or certifiable...

Last weekend (well since I didn't post this entry until now, it's actually two weekends ago), I completed 4 open water dives in order to get my scuba diving certification. It was quite an experience. I have wanted to get certified in order to be able to dive while on vacation and plan vacations around diving, but I have just never done it. A couple of friends and I had started talking about taking the class and then finally, in May, Nell Anne and I signed up for the class. We took the class for three weeks, gearing up in a 5 ft swimming pool and studying and taking tests. We completed the classroom section in May and we were feeling pretty confident. For some scheduling reasons, we were unable to go on the open water dive that month. Jim, our instructor told us that we could go another time as he takes students once a month up to the Puget Sound to do the open water dives. Well, for some reason, we missed the June trip, the July trip, the August trip, and we were about to miss the September trip when Nell Anne put her foot down (hard to believe, I know) and said no more. We were going and that was that (my apologies to Chris for missing his wedding on the 24th).

I resigned myself to the fact that we were going to finally complete our certification...and then it hit me - I wasn't going to be in a swimming pool where I could stand up and pop my head up out of the water at any sign of trouble. I began to get nervous. What if I had a problem 40 ft under the water? Was I going to have a panic attack? My fears were intensified after we went to the scuba shop to get fitted for the wet suits. The wet suit that is needed to dive in cold water is thick. Much thicker than the ones we used in the swimming pool. To make matters worse, they obviously didn't have an off-the-rack wetsuit that was going to fit my body correctly. In order to find a suit that fit my circumference, it was at least 6 inches too long in the legs and the arms. It was extremely difficult to put on and it was even more difficult to move once I did have it on. I felt like Gumby or the Michelin man. I when I walked around, I looked like an extra in one of those old zombie movies unable to bend my limbs as I lumbered around trying to convince myself that this was still a good idea.

At this point, I wasn't turning back regardless of my growing fears and nervousness. How difficult could it be? Tons of people have done it and I consider myself fairly adventurous. One thing I did to prior to the trip, which probably wasn't the best idea, was that I went out with some friends to a concert the night before we were headed out to dive. After the concert, we had to go out and have some drinks of course. Needless to say, I wasn't in bed until at least 3 am and I had to be at Nell Anne's at 7 am to take off to Tacoma. So after minimal sleep, I was headed out the door, and I really hoped that I would be returning home after the weekend in tact.

We got to Sunnyside Beach in Steilacoom, WA at around 9:45 am and met our instructor and the others that were diving. We then began the laborious process of getting into our gear. This I found to be an uncomfortable and tedious task. We started out with a 6.5 mm wet suit that was long sleeved and full legs, which I already described above. We also had additional gear that we hadn't tried on at the scuba shop. There were some boots, which are like thick aqua socks that are ankle high. They were tight and extremely difficult to get on, especially since you had to have the wet suit on before putting them on. Once that small miracle was accomplished, we had to put on another wet suit on top of the one we had on. This one was 5mm thick and was sleeveless and went to the knees. The main difficulty I had was trying to figure out what to do with the extra 6 inches of length that I had of neoprene in the legs and arms. It was all bunched up. I was trying to pull it up so that the extra would be somewhere around my mid legs and arms and not at the ankles and wrists. That stuff is really difficult to move. I was feeling exhausted before I even had half of my gear on. Then we had to put on a hood that left only our eyes, nose and mouth exposed. This was tucked into the wet suit which then made it extremely difficult to turn my head either direction. Then we had to start adding the actual scuba gear. A weight belt (16 lbs.), gloves, the vest, which is called the BCD, which also held additional weight (in my case 32 lbs of lead), and then the tank (probably another 30 lbs) and a mask made the ensemble complete.

It was the most ludicrous thing I have ever done. Imagine pouring yourself into a body suit that makes you virtually immobile and then add 100 lbs or so of equipment and weights to that. Now go jump in the ocean. Sounds reasonable enough. Everyone should do it.

Jim, our instructor was then telling us what to expect and what we would be doing. I was completely stressed out. I was sure that I was going to have a panic attack any second. We followed him into the water and tried to follow his instructions. Pretty soon, we were under the water and what do you know, I could breathe. So far, so good. Then we started to go deeper. The problem that I was going to have became immediately obvious. BOUYANCY. Without getting into too much detail, I was having a difficult time keeping myself in one place. I would let air out of the BCD (too quickly apparently) and sink to the bottom like a rock. Let me just tell you that this is not what you are supposed to do. My ears couldn't adjust to the pressure change that quickly and I found myself practically screaming (yes, you can scream through the regulator - the breathing device) in pain from the sharp pain in my ear from the speedy descent. In order to correct this error, I filled up my BCD with air (again too quickly) and sky-rocketed up to the surface. This was not the correct solution either. I spent the majority of that first dive panicked, disoriented and alternating between sinking to the bottom and bobbing back up the surface. Let me just say that as far as I am concerned, Jim hit it on the head when he said that the first dive is the worst. I was convinced that I would never be able to control my bouyancy properly. My ears were killing me as well. We finished our first dive and got out to take a break and eat some lunch. I knew that this was just the beginning of an extremely long weekend. I had to start ripping equipment off, because I was feeling so constricted and immobile that I was starting to freak out. Everything but the wetsuits and boots came off. All of a sudden, I almost felt mobile in the wetsuit.

Then we did our second dive, which was mainly a huge test of the skills we had learned in class. We were in a cirlce at the surface while Jim explained what we would be doing under the water. We had to pretend to be out of air and share air with our buddy and go to the surface together, fill our masks with water and then clear them, we had to hover (stay near the bottom without touching and go higher and lower just with the air coming in and out of our lungs - very difficult for me) and a few other skills. This all seemed to make some sense until we got under the water. Again, I was disoriented, although not as much as the first time. I was a little panicky down there, not sure how we were going to complete these tasks without talking. But Nell Anne went first and I was able to watch Jim going through the whole thing with her and so I knew what was coming, thank goodness. Once we finished our skills, Jim asked us if we wanted to tour around or if we wanted to get out. Not surprisingly, we all chose getting out. This was a lot more work than I had expected.

We got out of our gear as quickly as we could (not very quickly) and then we each had to pack up our gear to take back to the hotel and clean (much more work than it sounds). We all went to the dive shop and filled up our tanks for the next day and then Nell Anne and I headed to the hotel. We took all our stuff in, and tried to figure out how we were going to get the task done of rinsing all of our gear in the bath tub. I decided it would be better to clean the gear from inside the tub. So I took a shower and then had Nell Anne hand me all the gear while I cleaned it. Poor Nell Anne had to deal with handing me the stuff while my ass was hanging out of the tub. Sorry for the horrifying visual. Anyway, that chore took forever and we were fully convinced that this sport involves too much equipment and cleaning of the equipment. Also, we were completely exhausted from the day. What we needed now was a meal. We headed out and after driving around, we found an Outback and had the most delicious and grubby meal ever!! I think that was the best tasting beer I ever had. It's funny how good things taste after a long hard day of activity and hard work.

Stay tuned for day 2 details, we're not certified yet....

Last night I went to the OAMP (Oregon Association of Mortgage Professionals) conference. This is an annual event held at the Jantzen Beach Red Lion that involves classes, workshops, and ultimately drunkenness and debauchery. I have heard legendary tales of this event, but in the eight years that I have been in the industry, I have never attended until this year. Lenders (that solicit our business) rent hospitality suites and offer drinks and entertainment, so the hotel is basically a raging party from one end to the other the entire evening. Cristie had a room and we were planning on crashing there for the night. Most of our Cosmopolitan crew was there early, but Michelle and I didn't head up until just before 7pm. For some reason traffic was awful and it took us an hour and a half to get from my house to Jantzen Beach. Ugg. Needless to say our cohorts had a bit of a head start on us. We walked in at 8:15pm stone cold sober and we were racing around as we didn't want to miss Michael's band, Ronster, that was playing in Hyperion's hospitality room. We walked in late, just as they were starting to break down their equipment. We ran into a rep (who will remain unnamed) who was wearing Cristie's panties on her face and making quite a show of sniffing them. Apparently we had missed quite a show...in addition to the band. We heard reports of people jumping up on stage and singing with the band, girls making out, etc. Not too mention (I didn't ponder until later), how in the hell did Cristie get those undies off while she was onstage in the first place? Let me tell you, the things that drunks do don't make as much sense when you are obeserving through sober eyes. This was the point when I was pretty sure that all of the stories that I had previously heard about this conference must be true and that I needed a drink immediately.

We had a great time gambling with the fake money we were given, playing blackjack, dancing, and having cocktails. After the conference festivities, we headed to the hotel bar to continue in the self-destruction process. We hung out and danced and had a great time. It's nice to spend a little down time with some of the people that we work with on a daily basis and not talk shop.

We were hanging out with some of our favorite lenders including Dan from Lime Financial, a great guy who many like to call "Clooney" for obvious reasons. The girls and I consider him the "holy grail" of men. He has been happily married forever, is a great dad, is drop-dead gorgeous, and is just an all-around great guy. We were just sitting around talking when we found out that Cristie had only one bed in her room and the plan was for Kruse and I to bunk with her. Dan in all his chivalry said, "I'm going home. I have a room that I'm not using if you guys want it." He gave me the key. Great! We were set. After we closed down the bar, we went up to Cristie's room and had a 2:30 am snack from Burger King (we were completely crushed that Taco Bell was closed - is that even right that Taco Bell should close before the bars??) and got in our jammies. Mine was kind of a strappy purple number (Deb knows what I'm talking about). I should have learned from her sexy nightie hotel blog entry, but no, I had to learn my own lesson on this one.

I decided that I would go down to Dan's room to sleep since it seemed silly for the three of us to crawl into one bed needlessly. I stealthily left the room and headed down 2 floors to his room. I got in and locked the door with the privacy latch and extra lock. There were 2 beds in the room. I started to crawl into one of the beds and then I noticed that there were some things in the room - a suitcase and some personal belongings. It was 3 am. No one was there. I called up to Cristie's room to discuss this development. Why I didn't leave at that moment shall forever remain a mystery. We decided that if someone showed up, they couldn't get in anyway and that if they did, I would just head back upstairs. I turned off the light and got comfortable. It couldn't have been 10 minutes later, when I heard the sound of the key in the door, but no door opening. Maybe it was for the room next door, I thought. Then a soft knock. Shit! I would have to get up and evacuate. I had never met this person, and I'm sure he wasn't expecting anyone would be in his room. Here I was in my strappy purple nightie, being forced to get up and answer the door.

"Hi," I said. "Ummmm, my friend Dan gave me his room key, cuz he said he wasn't using his room. I didn't realize that anyone else was staying here. I'm just going to head back upstairs to stay with my friends..." I'm sure this guy was shocked to find this scantily clad chick answering HIS hotel room door. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Now I feel bad." That was funny, he was feeling bad that I was getting kicked out of his hotel room. "No, I'm fine," I said. "My friends are upstairs, we'll be fine. Good night." I made a hasty exit. I bookfooted it upstairs and crawled into bed with Michelle and Cristie.

I guess the three of us sleeping in one bed wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Jim sent this to me. Too freakin' funny...

http://gprime.net/video.php/presidentialspeechalist

Since I am on the topic of dental hygiene I wanted to pose a question, a parental dilemma if you will.

After taking Joaquin and Lily to the dentist for their cleanings in June, I was thinking about how I would try to ensure that they get no cavities, aside from the constant nagging that they brush their teeth. I was thinking that it might be a good idea to impose the policy that mom pays for all of the teeth cleanings, straightenings, etc, but if they get a cavity, that it comes out of their allowance to fix it. Would that be mean?

This parenting stuff is all trial and error anyway.

Beware the hidden dangers of flossing...

Monday night I was burning the midnight oil at the office (as is my custom lately) with Marianella and we were snacking on supplies that we had stashed at the office. I was eating some beef jerky and I got a piece stuck in my teeth - very irritating. It drove me crazy the entire time I was at the office working. I got home and went straight to the bathroom drawer to grab the floss. I started flossing to get the offending piece of meat out of there and the floss kept getting stuck on what I thought was the jerky (is anyone grossed out yet?). So I took another piece of floss out and put it between my molars and pulled...and...POP! - out came...my filling!! It broke into two pieces. So I am standing there trying to assess the damage but I couldn't see very well and so I stuck my tongue up there and felt this hole where my filling was supposed to be.

I must say, I've never had anything like that happen, but how cool was it for me when I called Dr. Cammann the next day to get it replaced, that I could say, "My filling came out while I was flossing."? It made me look like a star pupil. I didn't have to say, "I was eating rock candy" or "I was opening bottles with my teeth", it was great. I was praised for being so diligent in my hygiene (I kind of skipped the part about the jerky) and got my tooth fixed the next morning. Aside from the discomfort of the anesthetic and sitting in the dentist's chair, the visit to the dentist wasn't half bad.

After a comment this morning from my buddy and blog goddess, Deb(o) that I should have a blog, and due to the fact that I had to get a user name just to comment on her blog (thus one step closer to actually having a blog), I have decided that some of the events in my life may actually be worth documenting. So here it is, my first official blog entry allowing basically anyone access to the inner workings of my twisted mind and life.

I am taking this momentous step fully realizing that no one may care and that these entries may only serve as a personal reminder of my perspective on my experiences, which is good, as my memory isn't all that great sometimes. I need all the reminders I can get.

So...WELCOME to Mikki's blog. I hope you find it entertaining.