1/01/2003

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I am not a writer.

I have no aspirations of writing a book - never have.  Unless you count that one time I had a brilliant idea for a children's book, but later found out that someone had already stolen my idea.  Wait...That's not true.  Once when I was in high school I was convinced that I would grow up to write romance novels...but that was mostly because I was convinced that they were easy to write - but then later found out all I could do was write the sex scenes...with no plot. And that puts your book in an ENTIRELY different book store.

My grammar and use of the English language is often times deplorable.  If it weren't for spell checker and for the fact that my Mom is down the hall at my office, most of my work emails would read like I had recently had a labotomy.  So, as I said.  I am not a writer.

In fact, what I really wanted to do when I grew up was have a bar.  I even had a sketch drew of where all the tables and chairs would be, and had a name picked out and everything.  We were going to call it 'The Pundit Club'.  Mostly because that's the dumbest word I've ever heard in my entire life.  Who in their right mind wants to be called a Pundit...Wouldn't you rather just be called an expert?  In addition - at the time we came up with the idea...we were convinced we knew EVERYTHING.

However, our big idea was a big fish tank in the middle of the bar with Piranha.  We were going to feed them once a day...That was going to be our "big thing".  It wasn't until later that we realized that many people might find that distasteful with a mouthful of Mahi Mahi.  Not to mention the insurance.

So, instead I got married and had a kid and a normal job. And a laptop.

My mother told me once that I was a good storyteller.  My husband would argue that.  He wishes I would get to the point sooner.

What I can tell you is that I like to make people laugh.  If you get a chuckle here - ever - then that makes me happy.

More?

I hate peas. Hate them.

I have recently been diagnosed with a slight anxiety issue.  Since then everyone I've met seems to have one worse than mine...So I feel like I'm ahead of the game.


I'm addicted to socks.  I can not go bare foot around my own home.

I love Barry Manilow. I'm not afraid to say it.  Also, Show Tunes.  I can sing every song from Annie, Newsies, and show you a dance my sister and I created for The Copacabana.

And I love email.  Unless you want to sell me a watch, ask about my penis, or tell me I've won an International Lottery in Bahrain.  If you aren't any of those people....Shoot me an email!

1/01/2003

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I talk to these people more than I talk to my own family.

I used to have this list on my sidebar....but it got too long...and it started reminding me of my husband and daughter taking all the space in the house...and I'm all "Seriously people? You are ONE person! How much space do you REALLY need! And YOU! You are only 4!! You need like 1/4 of the space I do! And you don't even WEAR mascara or pantyhose!!!"

And then I realized that I was getting a tad bit...um....over anxious about my feelings about my sidebar.

So just decided to move them here.

Baby steps y'all.

If you don't see you - and I read you - let me know and I'll add you....But really? Who looks at these lists anyway?



15 Minute Lunch
Always Home & Uncool
Bacon Is My Lover
Bad Ass Geek
Bill & Jill
Carolyn Online
Dad Gone Mad
Dispatches From The Island
Dooce
Emails From Crazy People
Finslippy
Flooded Lizard
Funn-E-Stuff
Jonniker
Just Making Our Way
Lovely Listing
Mind Of A Mad Woman
Momma Kiss
Mommy Wants Vodka
MummaBoo
Papa TV
Passive Aggressive Notes
Post Picket
View From The Short Bus
Shamelesly Sassy
Smart Ass Mom
Stir Fry
Sylvester 4
The Bean
Bloggess
Brakes & Gas
Undomestic Diva

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