A bargain?

I heard an advertisement on the radio that said they could help you decrease the amount you owe to the IRS, if you owed $10,000 or more. Just call this toll free number. Give them your name and social security number. Go to jail, go directly to jail. Would somebody that owes the government that kind of money be stupid enough to turn themselves in? Yes, they will save you money...in exchange for jail time. Maybe I'm wrong...maybe not. Good luck with that.

Too many Y's and not enough P's and Q's

Why do I still wonder about people I have not seen or talked to in over 30 years? You cross my mind on a regular basis.

Why do I want to pick up the phone and check on a former friend, that decided she no longer wanted me to be a part of her life, when I know she could be in danger?

Why would people drive through deep water? It's called a car, not a boat, for a reason.

Why do people have affairs without considering the long term consequences? Is instant gratification so important?

Why am I always asking questions?

Why do I never get answers?

Why do I care?

Why?

Ghosts in the economy

If you turn the television on, read a paper or have any social interaction at all, you know the economy sucks. Jobless rates are through the roof and foreclosures on homes have skyrocketed. None of this is news. Drive through any subdivision and count the "SALE" signs or overgrown lawns. I noted this earlier in the year. I am noticing more businesses closed...some that have a long history. I know that I am not telling you anything that you have not noticed yourself. But, I may have a new one. The local (to my home) Catholic church is for sale. There is no new shiny building for the congregation, just a big yellow sign out front announcing it's for sale. I find this especially odd since church attendance usually increases in hard times. This is no little fly by night church. That church has been in that spot over 40 years...with a school, auditorium and sports fields. It's even where we vote. There always appears to be an overflow crowd at Mass...at least from the looks of the parking lot. Their summer picnic fouls local traffic for an entire weekend.

Anybody in the market to buy a church?

Karma does not exist

I have a car that I like. It isn't a fancy car or expensive...as cars go. Buy it's mine and I'd like to keep it in good shape. I am very selective about where I park. I want to avoid those people that don't seem to understand that my car door does not want to make the acquaintance of theirs. My last car was three years old when I traded it in and there were no dings, dents or scratches.

As I wish others to be respectful of my property, I try to reciprocate. One way in which I do this is making sure my shopping cart is secured when I am finished with it. That is what those little metal thingys taking up parking spaces are for...you might have seen one once.

This is how I know karma does not exist. Because I will find the errant, run away cart against MY car...parked in the north forty.

Ambiguity

I was asked why, when I posted, why the entries are often vague. This was queried by someone that happened to know the subject matter of a particular post, even though the subject was not specifically mentioned. There is a method to my madness, I mean why else be mad?

I think that by being vague, by examining the impact more so, it allows others to see themselves in my writing. I think that is more interesting than the day to day trivia of my life. By allowing others to make it personal, maybe it will give them another perspective.

But then...maybe that's just crap.

Reflection

Sometimes things happen in life that make you study yourself in the mirror just a little bit harder. Are your eyes the same? The set of your mouth? Do you look suddenly older, like you feel? Was it there all the time but you hadn't looked for it until now. Do you recognize heartbreak, insanity, loneliness? Scars on the heart, mind and soul are not visible but when the pain is felt so keenly it is sometimes hard to believe that others can not see them.

Something to think about...

What would you think about a person that talks to someone...invisible?

What do you think of a person that makes wishes...and expects them to come true?

Just asking.

Who, what, when and where

A recent conversation got me to thinking about the "in crowd" also known as the "popular kids". I don't think I have ever fit into either of these categories as I have never seen fit to conform to other people's ideas of who or what I should be. Changing just to fit in seems a high price to pay to me. This often left me feeling like the outsider, always looking in. There was a time, in high school, that bothered me...as we all want nothing more than to belong at that age. But even then, I never found a group of people that made me feel at home. I wasn't a jock, cheerleader, band, preppy, geek, stoner or brain.

This leads me to a more recent line of thinking. How much we make decisions about WHO we are and how much is just... happenstance. Did you make a decision about what you do for a living or did you just wind up there? I went to college to be a Physical Therapist, only to discover I'd have to "go away" to obtain the degree. Being the mom of two small children, that wasn't very feasible. So I changed my destination to Nursing. I worked as a bedside nurse for five years, quickly discovering that I hated it. So now I work in a position that requires the nursing degree but that I had never heard of, didn't even know it existed, until about two years before I applied. I am sure this is not an unusual story. Life happens. It isn't a long straight road, for most of us we're lucky if we have a clue what is around the next bend. How many of us live and die in the same state, if not community, that we were born in? Is it choice, or are the roots too deep before we notice? Religion is a big one for me. I believe most people worship the same as their parents, spouse or the prevalence of their community. My Mother swore that I was Catholic, even though outside of weddings or funerals I've not been to mass in over 30 years. She maintained I was Catholic because I was baptized that way...something, mind you, that occurred when I was an infant with absolutely no say. I think some people have given more thought to their diet choices and fashion sense than they have the vehicle, if you believe, that conveys eternity. That doesn't make good sense to me. I hold in high regard people that make informed, conscientious choices about their lives.

I also wonder how often we take things we've been told as truth...without ever really investigating them. We just believe because somebody said so. I wonder how many untruths I unknowingly hold to be true. How am I supposed to know?

I wonder a lot.

It's a Harry situation

I just sat through the latest adventures of Harry Potter. I say sat through, not enjoyed, because the lady sitting one seat over discussed the movie with her 7 or 8 year old daughter throughout the entire movie. I mean how rude! You are doing your child a disservice buy not teaching her proper theater etiqutte...not to mean annoying the hell out of the rest of us. The theater was not even crowded, at 12:30 on a Monday afternoon, you could have sat away from others if you were going to discuss every plot twist. If she isn't old enough to get it, then leave her home...or wait for the video, at which point you can discuss in the privacy of your own home.

It's all relative.

How do we learn the meaning of words? Sure there was all those years in school, but I suspect a lot of words we learn from conversations. How simple it is to misunderstand the meaning of a word that we hear.

I recently received a message on a social networking site asking me if I believed in incest. The sender hoped I wouldn't think him weird. He was in his twenties. My assumption is, somewhere along the line he has heard the word incest, the story must have involved a significant age difference. That is what he has now defined in his brain as incest. He must have missed the entire concept of the familial relationship between the two people.

It now makes me wonder how many words I have wrong in my head. It's not like I've looked up every word I've ever heard.

The never ending story

I don't know if I have ever explained the design of my blog...nor do I know if anybody cares. But it's my story to tell....

Once upon a time in a childhood far, far away there was a little girl. This little girl had one nightmare that sent her scurrying to her parent's bedroom over and over. It is the only nightmare I remember from my childhood. I was being chased by a full orange moon. Terrifing huh? I have no idea why I found that so frightening...or memorable.

I alway think of an orange moon as a blood or sanguine moon, though technically the name refers to the full moon in October, also known as the Hunter's moon. There is a much more technical and somewhat confusing explanation, but unnecessary for my purpose. So this is the image and name I chose for my blog...a sanguine moon.

As for my pseudonym...Echo. The sound of my own voice. My blog, my voice. Alone. Sometimes so alone I swear I hear it reverberate...echo in my own mind. Sometimes that echo of a thought, repeatedly, is what drives me to write. To clear my mind...to chase away the fears of a little girl all grown up.

blah. blah. blah.

I have sat down multiple times over the last week and started to write only to find a dead end. The words refuse to come, nothing flows. I start, stutter and delete. Here I am again. I think I realized the problem...I was trying to write about myself. Not what I think about...but about me. Apparently not one of my better subjects.

And here I am, stuck again.

No flash of insight.

No breakthroughs.

Nothing.

So why do I sit down to write? Habit? I don't know, there just seems to be something lurking in the recesses waiting to get out. It will come...eventually.

Thank you

I do not do my job for gratitude, I do it for a paycheck...as socially incorrect as it is to admit it. My job can be challenging. I work hard. I make a difference. I sometimes like what I do...sometimes. But ever now and then someone will thank me for what I do...and mean it. It feels good. Maybe that is the sometimes.

A germ by any other name...

Listen up people...

It's a staph infection, S-T-A-P-H...that's staphylococcus. It is not a STAFF infection. Hospital acquired infections occur, but they are never, ever, referred to as staff infections. The proper term is nosocomial.

You would be amazed at how often this causes concern and confusion....now you know.

I call bullshit

I briefly heard a man talking on a radio talk show this morning...and it was brief, I will admit, as I don't listen to talk radio. But just the one statement I heard sent me on a mental rampage. He said something along the lines of, people were being financially exploited because of all the liquor stores and lottery outlets in a certain neighborhood. What? Sorry, I have to call bullshit! I don't care what kind of stores are in my neighborhood...I don't have to buy what they're selling. I go to the grocery every week...I walk right past the cookies, candy and chips. Nobody is making me spend my money.

Stores are not going to flourish where they are not supported. If you have 3 liquor store in a mile, it's because they can all get enough business to succeed. And you think because you ban a business from a geographical location...an absurdity in itself with maybe the exception of schools, that people are not going to haul their asses to the nearest available vendor of what they want? Again...bullshit.

Business are just that, a business selling a product that enough people want and will spend money for to keep that business viable. And it doesn't have to be the local neighborhood bar.What happened to freedom of choice and personal responsibility? If someone is spending all their money getting drunk and hoping to hit it big on the lottery they are not being exploited...they're being stupid. Where they live has nothing to do with it. I wonder if there are any mental health and substance abuse clinics nearby...and how's business?

Shiver me timbers

I was awoke this morning at 5AM by a growl that sent my body into immediate fight or flight response...those old primal responses are alive and well in this modern human.

I share my home with a 90+ pound black lab. He does most of his growling in his sleep, something I find endlessly amusing...not menacing. But this morning he let out a sound that I had me wide awake and heart pounding, adrenaline flowing, in an instant. Now mind you, this dog was nowhere near me...in fact we were on different floors. I had never heard him utter such a vicious sound and I have had him over 7 years...that suddenly explains all the scratching, 7 year itch!!! ha ha ha. Okay, you had to be there.

Anyway...I jump out of bed, throw on a gown and head for the stairs. There was an instant of hesitation as I considered arming myself from a selection of available weapons...swords, knives, whips, chains...for the sake of honesty, I will admit that I do not own a chain that is weapon worthy. About this time my dog barks/yips and I fore go armament and go to check out the situation.

My dog is standing at the glass back door, hackles at full attention and the motion sensor light is on. Now it is good to note that whatever has him acting like a vicious guard dog is actually still on the outside of my house. I walk over to the door to have a look and to my dismay...there are, count them 1, 2, 3 pugs standing on my deck. The three of these dogs combined would add up to half of my dogs weight. So what is his issue that has woke me at 5 in the morning ready for battle??? They are licking the empty take-out container that his dinner had been in. You got to be kidding me...are you senile? I tell him to go lay down...after assuring him that he was a good baby and I go back to bed.

But apparently, at least one of these pugs is horribly confused and think they live here and want in. How do they express this desire? But of course, they cry, whine and yes...even howl. A thin, nails on chalk board, plaintive cry. I wonder which power in the universe is finding this roll on the floor, side aching, funny?

Hilarious.

I consider my options, most of which involve me getting up, dressed and heading outdoors. I opt for a pillow over my head and hopes that the racket will be annoying enough to wake up another member of my sleeping family. Fat chance.

I eventually win the quest for sleep...for a few hours. I get up this morning, start coffee and go to let the dog out and there is still one lone pug waiting at my back door. Little dude, on second glance dudette, you are horribly lost and confused. This is not your house, you do not live here and NO you can not come in. I eventually had to chase her off and close my gate. I don't have to close the gate for my dog, he knows his boundaries.

I've never seen these 3 dogs before...perhaps a new neighbor. But I have a few suggestions...keep your dogs in YOUR yard, I already have one and don't want yours. Not to mention the legal and health issues...and danger to your little dogs running around in the dark. Second, put a collar and tags on them. At least that way I can call and wake your ass up at 5AM to come and get them.

Sweeping dust into a pile

A random assortment of thoughts...just how my brain works.

I saw the word "undomiciled" today. So now we have a politically correct term for homeless. Personally, I hope it doesn't catch on.

I walked out of work today and wondered if it was raining...it was a very light sprinkle. I confirmed to myself that it was indeed raining when I noted the rain freckles on the sidewalk. That's a term I'd like to see catch on. "Look, there are rain freckles on the windshield." I have no clue why my brain thought of rain freckles...maybe because it's been undomiciled.

Have I mentioned that reading my blog is a waste of time? It is solely for my enjoyment and the unclutterment of my mind. Is unclutterment a word? It is now...my blog, my word.

I guess that is all for now. I've given the world two new words and a cute and totally useless phrase. Hey, what do you want for free?

An open letter to the Louisville Fire Fighters and Crusade for Children

First off, I support your dedication and your cause. We write a check every year and drop change at numerous locations throughout the summer. But when you come into our neighborhood at 10AM on a Saturday morning I must cry FOUL!

Have you ever considered the panic you may cause by the wail of sirens in a neighborhood?

Not to mention the sheer lack of courtesy. There are lots of people that enjoy sleeping in on Saturday...or worse just dropped into bed after a long night at work. Nurses, for example, work 7PM-7AM...you allow them just enough time to fall asleep before blasting through their neighborhood...repeatedly. This morning, vehicles kept circling our block, creating a nonstop raucous for at least 30 minutes.

I am reconsidering my donation. Maybe if enough of us do so, you'll go away...or at least rethink your tactics. There are plenty of quiet, considerate, organizations out there that would love to take my money.

Quiet

I was asked yesterday why I haven't been writing. I've also had people express concern because I've been quiet...not a normal state of being. I'm not sure, I've just been tired, preoccupied, distracted. The little voice inside my head that find so much amusement in even the inconsequential has been absent and I've been too tired to go looking for it.

Today was an unexpected day off from work. It feels much like a snow day back in school. Get up in the morning, start getting ready and the phone rings...no work. It doesn't happen often enough to be distressing. So I undressed and went back to bed, wondering if I'd be able to go back to sleep...sleep isn't always the easiest thing for me. I woke up three hours later. I feel much better now, like a starving man that has food handed to him. For the first time in a while I don't feel so exhausted...though after eating breakfast, I think I could go back to sleep.

But while I am sitting here alone, in the quiet, I'll share a few thoughts...are you just dying with anticipation? OOOOoooo, there's the old me.

Train derailment at the zoo...

How many of us have ridden that train? Goes to prove danger lurks around every corner even where we perceive none. I mean, we believe roller coasters are safe but there is still some element of danger...why else would we ride them if not for the adrenaline rush? But the train at the zoo??? I can remember laughing that we could get out and jog faster. It was a kiddie ride! Nobody would have been on there with an infant with the slightest concern for their safety. I wish them all well and 100% recovery...though a suspect some kids may have a lifelong fear of trains.

Survival...

Humans as a species are remarkably resilient. Nothing new in that sentiment. Some recent observations and conversations led me to thinking HOW we survive. It's as simple as one step in front of the other. Every time someone is faced with a crisis, be it death, divorce, betrayal or personal obstacle, that individual makes a choice...be defeated or move on. Sometimes a person will hesitate, admit defeat, and be stuck in one place for a time...but it is seldom the person remains there. It is just not compatible with survival...or I suppose with the human psyche. Or maybe I just don't hang around with quitters.

The well is dry of deep thoughts now. I have a bonus day off from work, the sun is shining and it's cool outside so maybe I'll find something to get into...or maybe I'll take that nap.

Treasure Hunt

One of the annoying things about living with other people, and especially children, is the fact that your belongings don't stay put. This is especially true, but not limited to, dishes in my house. Tonight I went on a treasure hunt through a drawer looking for my ice cream scoop. I know I own one...actually two. Eventually I found one, which was all I really needed.

I can't help but wonder if there is someone, somewhere, dipping out ice cream and thinking they didn't know they owned an ice cream scoop. Enjoy!

A sad sight

As tends to be the case, a rainy Spring and the warmth of approaching Summer has brought about grass cutting season (and my allergies). This year I've noticed something different.

There are always those few people that will procrastinate mowing the lawn as long as possible...until the health department shows up or they're at actual risk of losing a small child. But this year I am noticing more overgrown lawns. The difference...the houses are empty. I don't know how long they've sat vacant over the winter. Their secret safe. The long grass announces their presences on nearly every street. It is a sad sight to see.

To the stalkers...

For the few that know me and actually find this blog, you will not find much new here as I have been duplicating myself. Scary thought, huh? After a few strange incidents I found myself wondering if Mojo would one day permanently, even if accidentally, delete my blog. I found that thought somewhat distressing. What I write may be of little relevance, but it is the journey of my life...my musings. I spend a great deal of time putting just the right words together to convey my thoughts and emotions. I would find it distressing to find myself staring at a blank page.

I actually prefer this format and the freedom it allowed me in expressing myself beyond my words in it's design. I had not publicly shared it's existence with others, it felt more private...like the journal once hidden beneath the mattress. Nothing about it said it was mine, no name identified it...and I just added the photo today. So here it is...the deep dark secret.

The giant vortex sucks me in

You know that feeling you get sometimes that the world is out to get you? Well, it seems, I just hit the mother lode. Actually, to tell the truth, it really isn't THAT bad. I've had bad times...and this is not one of them. Nobody is sick or dying. I didn't just loose my best friend. My dog did not get hit by a car. No earthquakes, fires, tornadoes or tsunamis. You know...life changing events. This is more like some prankster is out to get me. I know there are legends in many cultures about such an entity...none of which come to mind and I'm too lazy to Google search it at the moment.

Example...last night I decided on chips and salsa. Yum. I pour salsa into a bowl and open the cabinet for the chips. A box falls from the cabinet knocking the bowl (plastic) from my hand. The bowl hits the floor and salsa goes everywhere! Quit laughing. It is all down the front of me, it's on my white cabinets on both sides of the kitchen and about 5 feet out into my dining room. It is all over the dining room table and chairs...with white cushions. I know, I know...I was asking for it buying chairs with white cushions. Luckily it wiped right off. I spent the next 15 minutes, I guess, cleaning up...and losing any interest in actually eating the salsa.

This was not a lone incident. I have the fear that I am destined to actually hurt myself in some uncoordinated and completely humiliating act of unbelievable proportions. Yes...it has been that bad. I am surprised I didn't fall face down in the salsa while spraining my nose, or some other ridiculous feat.

Or maybe I'm just looking for a reason to stay in bed.

This desire was not helped today when some strange, unknown to me, kid rang my doorbell...repeatedly, waking up my sleeping, night shift working, son. The kid, middle school aged I'd guess, then complained to me that another, unknown to me kid, was going to beat him up. I know my response was probably not the proper one...but really, what concern is this to me? My angry, just woke up, son did yell at them to get out our yard. I may have reacted differently if this had looked to be of some real concern. But they acted, and fought, more like giggly school girls than boys at any risk of actually harming each other. Nope probably wouldn't have changed my mind....just I would have yelled at them to get out of our yard. I've raised my sons. I've dealt with the bullying and bullshit that goes with it. I have absolutely no desire to do it anymore, especially with kids I've never seen. Next thing I know I'll have some parent down here yelling I hurt Tommy's poor little feelings. Jeez.

On a final note...I have the phrase, "All the truths he tells you are lies." stuck in my head. I don't think it comes from anywhere except the deep recesses of my psyche...and no I don't have any reason to believe anyone is being untruthful to me.

Maybe I should take a look at my bed; safe, warm, quiet...

Star Trek

As usual, I will try not to spoil the movie for those that haven't seen it...what are you waiting for?

I enjoyed this movie. I watched the original Star Trek TV series as a kid...yes, I am that old! Though I have never really considered myself a Trekkie. I don't own a Star Fleet uniform, a com badge or a single solitary action figure. This movie is a prequel to that old TV series. It shows the assembly of the USS Enterprise crew. But it isn't like so many other tired attempts at ringing the last drop of life blood from a subject. This movie was fun! There were cheers and applause in the theater, several times actually. It was true to the characters that many of us remembered but still fresh. I left the theater happy. I had went with trepidation and not expecting much...I was wonderfully surprised.

Best Shirt

I guess just about everybody has had a favorite shirt at one time or another. The one you'd wear everyday...if people wouldn't make fun of you. It may grow old and a little ragged, but it's still your favorite. Imagine one day you open your closet and your favorite shirt is nowhere to be found. You search high and low, but nothing. No matter what you do you can't seem to reconnect. Sure, there are other shirts, lots of them. Same color, same style, same fabric...but not the same. There is no history with these shirts. You go on, buy a new one or two. But you always wonder what happened. You tell yourself that you really had outgrown the old shirt, that it really didn't fit you so well anymore. But it was so comfortable. Eventually a new shirt will become your favorite. You may have to shop for a while and try on lots of new ones. Then one day, down the road, the old favorite pops up out of nowhere. Can you have two favorites? Does that stand in opposition to the definition of favorite? Or is it time to toss the old shirt permanently? After all...it really doesn't fit anymore.



Look up metaphor.

Bella vs Sookie

I don't think I'll be in much danger of producing a spoiler here, but just in case...you've been warned.

I recently completed the Twilight series, then a slight dodge to the left and read the latest Harry Dresden/Butcher book, and now I have started on the first Sookie Stackhouse novel. It never occurred to me until now, that all of them have vampires.

Anyways...The Sookie Stackhouse series is written by Charlaine Harris and I am told the HBO series True Blood is based on them. I'm only 63 pages into the first book but I have already found it a bit disconcerting to discover an all too familiar story line...mortal meets vampire. One of them is telepathic and can hear the thoughts of every person in the world except for...you guessed it. In Twilight, Edward, the vampire, is telepathic and the mortal, Sookie, is in the Stackhouse book. I'm sure I'm not the only person that has noticed this glaring similarity. As I said I'm only 63 pages in, I'll hold my judgement for a while...but I am still reading. I am not above ditching a book that does not hold my attention. I don't know if Sookie will win me over...we'll see. Right now she just seems a little too perky, but then that may be easier to deal with than the insecure needy Bella.

Stark raving

I live in a world of stark contrasts.

Those words have been inside my head all afternoon. They're true, but I wonder why the sudden echo. Are they famous or quotable words from some movie? I never could...well with rare exception, do movie quotes.

My world is one of stark contrasts. Mostly having to do with who I am, who I need to be, who I am expected to be and who I want to be. Sometimes, I get them confused and the wrong person shows up and all hell breaks loose. I sometimes think I'm playing my own straight man...that would be a comedy, not sexual, reference. I could explain why that would never work as a sexual reference but then you'd scream your head was hurting and ramble off claiming to be bliiiiind.

That's how life works sometimes.

Don't kill the guys on horses

That would be the lesson I've learned in my first 24 hours of playing Oblivion. Actually there have been lots of lessons...most of them involving the buttons on the controller and the scrolling of menus. I am, at least, capable of defending myself...most of the time. Let's just say, that I am dead less often.

I bought my Xbox earlier this year and set about conquering Lost Odyssey. I discovered several problems early on...mainly the characters annoyed me and I hated the dream/movie sequences. I kept thinking, if I had the chance I'd kill several of my own party members. I managed through 3 of the 4 disks, then I ran into a problem that I couldn't solve...and didn't care. The linear design of the game kept me from wandering aimlessly, but it also kept me from exploring. The turn based fighting helped me learn the buttons but made the fights feel preordained. I absolutely hated all the swirly lights (dramatic effect?) wasting my time prior to every combat. I also did not like that I had to reach a certain save point before ending the game. That made it very difficult to play when time is often limited.

So Saturday, I traded in Odyssey for Oblivion...a game I have heard so many rave about. I spent many of my first hours being killed...by one particular gremlin witch that liked throwing electricity at me. But I found myself laughing that I was being thwarted so early in the game. I will also note here that I spent a tremendous amount of time designing the look of my character to hardly ever see her. I killed an Imperial Guard, quite by accident....I know, tell it to the judge. Except there isn't one. I paid my fine and happily went on my way. The next time I wasn't so lucky...no gold. What the hell, I resisted arrest and again went happily on my way...but not for long. Off to jail, do not pass GO!, do not collect $200. I did my time...and did not realize that when I was released, I was practically naked. That's a sense of humor for you.

I have no clue where I am, and only a slight clue as to where I may be going. Actually I'm standing in front of a gigantic wooden door...helpful? I didn't think so. I am enjoying the game. Hopefully I can keep myself occupied so that I do not feel like I am aimlessly wandering...unless that is exactly what I am doing.

Not applicable

On the outside looking in...or the inside looking out, but somehow separated by an invisible line of impenetrable barrier. A wisp. A thought, that holds you back. A choice once made. A decision, not forced. A hand never played. Leaving only what-ifs and maybes. No satisfaction gained. Irreversible. You don't want what you want. Can't have back what it was. No future...and what's the point if all you can do is look back? Looked upon through rose colored glasses...now cracked.

Snorkeling

Have you ever been snorkeling? I went for the first time a little over a week ago. I had booked the excursion from my safe, comfy, living room...then flew approximately 1181.54 miles, took a van, then a ferry, then a glass bottom boat to a reef at which point I am given flippers I can't walk in, a mask I can't breathe in, invited to jump into 40 feet of water and hyperventilate through a straw...all to look at fish? I ask, what was I thinking? I can stand on perfectly good dry land, breathing all the air I want and look at fish at most local pet stores...or travel approximately 89.5 miles and go to the aquarium in Newport. What have I learned from all of this?

I want to do it again!