It's been weird lately

I have just had a lot of weird stuff going on lately....I mean weird stuff, mostly in my head. Weird random thoughts...but not all of it.

First I'd like to point out that it is not I before E except after C...it's a stupid mnemonic because it's wrong. But mnemonic is a pretty cool word. This comes to you after misspelling weird a number of times in that first sentence.

On to random thoughts...see previous blog entry for the kitten incident. No there was no incident, I promise. I would not dunk a kitten in water. I'm allergic and I'm sure it trying to climb up my arm would not end well. Damn, I'm itching just thinking about it. I had a few, let's say not so nice....won't be publicly exposed, thoughts recently. How can I say this without saying this? The voice in my head expressed my displeasure with a situation in terms of which I am not usually accustomed to...and I am accustomed to a lot. I just have to wonder where this language previously lived before surfacing in the forefront of my brain? It isn't really so much the language, as the phrases, the compilation of words into new and previously unexplored expressive terminology.

On to random incidents. I was driving down a subdivision street this morning on my way to work. It was still dark outside. There was a TARC bus stopped in the opposing lane, not an unusual occurrence. I guess they wait there if they are running ahead of schedule. As I was approaching the TARC bus, a school bus passed it in my lane. After the school bus passed, I started along side the TARC. There was another vehicle behind the TARC waiting for me to pass, and their lights were very bright. As I was passing, my brain warned me to look for the runner. I couldn't see anybody, but I slowed down and looked towards the shoulder of the road. My brain kept warning me, and as I passed the other vehicle and his lights were no longer glaring into my eyes I saw the runner...just to the right of me. If I had swung out to give the bus more clearance, I would have hit him before I saw him. I have no idea what I'd seen or perceived that set off the alarm, but I'm glad I listened. To add to the strangeness, I had posted that I was feeling lucky on my Facebook profile about 15 minutes earlier.

Another incident, but slightly more humorous...and, I promise, shorter. I was headed down a flight of stairs yesterday at work. There were two women just ahead of me, as they turned on the landing to head down the next flight one of them noticed me...for the first time. I apparently have an unusual ability to move very quietly. She screamed...ear piercing, high-pitched, only a girl could do scream, and in the enclosed stairwell it just echoed. Once she realized that I wasn't a serial killer stalking the hospital corridors, we all had a good laugh.

If she only knew. ::weg::

It's all about how you think.

Today I heard an ill person being described as, "weak as a kitten." Not an unusual phrase, and one that is generally accepted and well understood. But the little voice that lives inside my head declared, I bet if I dunked the kitten in water and set it on your head, you would re-evaluate that statement.

I'm not sure who the voice belongs to.

No kittens were harmed in this delusion.

Derogatory

It is very unfortunate when something in our lives suddenly takes on a new cultural meaning in society. I know a very sweet, demure, lady doctor...named Kevorkian. She has no relation to the infamous Dr Kevorkian, but imagine the reaction she gets every time she introduces herself. It only takes one person to defame a beloved family name. A few that come to mind...Hitler, Gacy, Manson. Imagine having the last name Mullet...especially if you had one.


During a recent conversation, I mentioned my intent to get a tattoo on my back. Someone asked, if I knew what that was called? I pointed out the fact that my tattoo would be between my shoulder blades...not in the region of the lower back. This particular person seemed to find the phrase, tramp stamp, quite amusing. I don't find the term amusing. It might be just a bit of a pet peeve, but I hate that something that was presumably important to someone...something permanent, has garnered such a negative connotation. If I ever were to get a tattoo on my lower back and someone called it a tramp stamp...I think I'd introduce them to another meaning of tramp.

This just in...

the Senators and Congressmen from Kentucky have no balls. This condition is caused by the, not so rare, condition of re-election.


The state's budget, like most of it's citizens, is strapped. There is no savings account...we're broke. Broke budgets are fixed one of two ways, raise money...taxes, or cut spending...services. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to pay higher taxes either. It isn't the action, so much as the motive that bothers me. They know if they piss off the constituency, bye-bye cushy high paying job. They are looking out for themselves, not the people of Kentucky. Our elected officials know people remember who voted to raise taxes and those voters carry a grudge. But when the neighbor gets burglarized because of early release programs, we just thank our lucky stars and buy a gun/dog/alarm. The same goes for when your SUV drops into a pothole the size of a Smart Car this winter. You won't be thinking about that election next year.


The politicians may not have balls...but apparently the condition doesn't effect their brains, ego, self-preservation or wallets....just ours.

Bad Movie Night

We sat down tonight with a stack of unwatched DVDs and picked two. The first, "The Happening" a M. Night Shyamalan movie. I have to admit that I sat down expecting to be confused at the end of the film. That has been my experience with his movies. The bases of the movie always looks interesting and I am drawn in, only to find myself wondering what it was about when it's over. I don't think I could possibly explain it better than my husband, when he said, "I could have done so many other things with 2 hours of my life."

As the second movie slid into the player I had even greater doubts. I had watched "Twilight" in theaters...with less than an enthusiastic response. But I had not read the book...which I am embarrassed to admit, I read through at a ravenous pace. Anyway, after reading the book, I wanted to see the movie again. I thought I might understand it more. I will say, that for the first time ever, I enjoyed a movie more because of the book...knowing what was going on made it easier to watch.

Now my husband can fret about losing 4 hours of his life.

Great Words

After a wonderful impromptu dinner, a dozen of us sat around the living room of a friend's house. We laughed, told stories and playfully made fun of each other...as comfortable friends will. One of the girls said something about her weight and the need to lose a few pounds...several of us agreed that we shared that boat with her. Most of us have a few extra pounds and we are not oblivious to that fact. That is when one of the guys, sitting back in the corner, said something that was so wonderful to hear. He commented that the only time he wanted to see ribs on a woman, was at Mark's Feed Store. God love you Ben...cause I sure do.

Age

Last night someone mentioned the first time he met me he thought my age was a typo...he had seen my online profile. It wasn't because I looked older/younger than my stated age, it was because of what I was "doing". In this particular case I was LARPing.  


LARP: A role-playing game in which the participants assume the roles of fictional characters. Participants determine the actions of their characters based on their characterization, and the actions succeed or fail according to a formal system of rules and guidelines. Within the rules, players have the freedom to improvise; their choices shape the direction and outcome of the game. There is a variety of role-playing game in which players perform their character's physical actions, known as live action role-playing games.  


He, as a few others have been, were amazed that an "older" person was playing.  


Why?  


Why is it that people assume that as we get older we must give up (or not become involved) in things we enjoy? Yes, I am a little slower than I used to be...but I can still outrun some of those young pups. Actually, I wasn't much of a runner, even as a kid.  


I hear women say they are getting too old for long hair. I don't understand this at all. I can understand if you don't want to mess with it, or if it is unattractive...but what does age have to do with it?  Are little girls too young for short hair?


I watched my parents spend their lives working, watching TV and sleeping. They seldom did anything for fun...especially once I moved out. They always seemed tired. Yes, I am tired too. I work long stressful hours...but I think I should be rewarded for my efforts. I go to work so I can afford to play. I can't always afford a long vacation to a tropical local, but I can afford dinner with friends, an occasional movie...and every so often an escape from reality.  


I have this fear that it I slow down, if I stop moving, I won't be able to get going again. I prod myself sometimes, even when I don't feel like it...when vegging on the couch seems like a perfectly acceptable alternative. And yes, sometimes I do allow myself a lazy day...day, one. My body does not accept more, unless I am sick. There seems to be a perpetual motor that requires winding...insists on motion, nagging at every fiber of my being.  


Maybe, one day, I will forced to slow down...if I live that long. But in the mean time, I will pursue life, not just let the time trickle through my fingers unheeded.  


Go to the park today and find a swing. Turn your face up to the sun, see how high you can go and laugh with pure pleasure. You may be amazed by how good it feels.

Hot to trot

Long story, short version...someone was teasing me this weekend about being "hot to trot". I've heard the phrase many times but never directed at me. Later, I wondered to myself how the phrase is meant. Is it a compliment or an insult?

It's one of those phrases that you, kind of, sorta, think you know what it means. My first thought was the fact that horses are warmed up prior to running and therefore hot to trot. I wasn't sure how that became a sexual reference. So a little research was in order.

The general consensus of the online dictionaries: Ready and willing, eager. Sexually avid, lascivious. Both slangy usages allude to a horse eager to get going.

So I wasn't too far off on the horse thing. But I'm still not sure about the intention of the term.

I do like the term lascivious...characterized by or expressing lust or lewdness, wanton. Tending to excite lustful desires.

Let the good times roll

I attended a LARP yesterday for the first time in two years. What a wake up call.

For those uninitiated, a LARP (live action role playing) is a game that can take several forms, but basically you design, then portray, a character in a story. I like to think of it as live video gaming. Instead of running a character around in a virtual world, you have to drag your ass off the couch and actually DO something. That is exactly where the wake up call hit. I forgot how much walking I do at this particular LARP. The location is Camp Piomingo at Otter Creek Park. If you've ever been there, you know how big the place is (360 acres) and I I've walked from one side to the other and end to end...usually more than once during an event. This particular game runs from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon. I just went out for 8-9 hours Saturday and still felt exhausted...happily exhausted. The weather was perfect and I was running around in the woods. I had really missed doing it but, as I said before, had forgotten about how physical it is. Walking, running, boffer (usually PVC pipe covered in foam and wrapped in duct tape to form a "weapon") fighting. But I really do feel better for the experience.

I think that is true with most things. We forget the little details for the pleasure of the experience. We look forward to the holidays...but we forget what an ass Uncle Larry really is until everyone gathers at the table. New Moms forget the morning sickness and miserable nine months at the sight of their newborns. I'm sure there are plenty of examples of our selective amnesia.

There probably won't be another event until Spring, but I hope to be there, running around in the woods, casting magic, wielding my foam sword and telling stories of great victories, fallen comrades and perhaps some treachery...and laughing, even if my feet hurt.

Catching up

It has been brought to my attention, even though I had noted myself, that I was not writing. It's been about 6 weeks. I usually enjoy writing and consider it self therapy...so the last 6 weeks have been wonderful? Not exactly. I can't really say why I haven't written. Work has sucked and I prefer not to write about the negative. I have been distracted my new shineys...and Fall weather...and friends. Life outside of work is good.

So what's happening?

Well it's November. Happy All Saint's Day. How the hell did it get to be November all ready? Thanksgiving in 3 weeks, Christmas next month!!! Whoa, I'm not ready for any of this. Can we go back to the beginning of September and start over?

Daylight Savings Time ended last night...fall back. What a load of crap! Does this really benefit anyone anymore, or is it just to annoy people like me with little internal alarm clocks? Let's change the time by half a hour then leave it freaking alone.

Last month Kentucky put on a big campaign about October being, "Walk to school month." Did anyone else see the irony in this? They're encouraging kids to walk to school for exercise and the benefits for the environment, but they bus the kids all over BFE, therefore few kids actually live close to the school they attend. Plus I'm pretty sure all those school buses criss-crossing the county are just excellent for the air we breathe. So here is my suggestion...have the buses drop the kids a block or two from school in the morning and a block or three from home in the afternoon. BLAM...kids getting exercise! Of course, I'm sure some parents and maybe a few school board members might raise a ruckus about safety and liability. Hey, if the kid is big enough to get bused across the county, sometimes even making bus changes, surely they can walk a couple of blocks unsupervised. I mean all the neighborhoods are safe, right? I mean, pedophiles can't live near schools or anything. Or maybe we could use the money we spend in gas to upgrade the schools so that all kids get a decent education...and maybe have a gym teacher. Who would have thought it?

Jeez, I feel better. That's my 2 cents for the day. Take it or leave it.

Life

Life from the beginning looks all new and exciting...all endless possibilities. We set our feet on a path with that first tentative step towards independence. At the other end, a lifetime viewed by other people appears to be a straight line from the beginning. People look back along that straight line and remember the events that occurred as the person traveled along that line.

I guess I am somewhere in the middle of the trip. I look back and see the line that got me to where I am and I look forward at a path that is vague, not yet set in stone. However, as I look back along that line I realize that is was never a straight line, but more one with feathered edges...all the paths not taken. Some crossroads are more distinct than others...conscious choices I made to do this, not that. Things that may have had a significant impact on the here and now, except, I suspect, there would not be a here and now if I had turned left instead of right. Sometimes I wish I had explored a little further down one of those veins...but I wonder what other events would have been set in motion. I can see so many places my roads could have taken me and I wonder if I would have been happier, sadder? Would I have so many wonderful people in my life? Different people? And every step down a different path would not only have effected me but every life I have ever touched...would they be happier? I am sure I have made a difference. I am not so sure it has always been positive.

There is no way to know what life could have been...or what it will be. I see a shimmering path to the horizon, like heat off payment on a sweltering summer day. I take steps forward, one foot in front of the other, knowing that the edges are feathered with options all around. Around every corner there may be a crossroads, a life decision, that may not even seem important until looked back upon. But standing still is not an option. So I set off down the yellow brick road and I hope that in the end when someone looks down my straight line they will find things to admire, laughs shared and stories to tell. I hope that I have done more good than harm.

Consider this...

I want you to consider this question: What would you want to have if you became stranded on a tropical island?

We'll get back to that in a moment while you consider your options.

A few more questions I've heard that the answers seemed more than obvious to me:

1. What's the number 1 cause of teen pregnancy?

2. What's the number 1 cause of mortality in the United States?

The answer to 1, according to most sources, is the lack of sex ed in schools. On question 2 the prevelant answer is heart disease.

Do you have your list of supplies ready yet? What if I limited you to, say, three. Does that narrow it down?

My answer to question 1...sex is the number 1 cause of teen (or any other) pregnancy. And the leading cause of mortality...death. Does it really matter from what?

Finished packing? Ready to travel? What 3 things did you decide on?

Personally if I get stranded on a tropical island, I want....

A credit card and a luxury hotel...and eventually an airport.

It's all about how you think.

Opening the door

I have a grumble. A thought that keeps recurring about something that bothers me...quite a bit actually. I keep thinking about how to open that door. How to say what is on my mind without it all going horribly wrong, as it often does. That is the problem with speaking your mind, it allows others the freedom to do the same. Sometimes this allows all kind of little nasties out of the bottle....some of which, will fight like hell to prevent being stuffed back in like they never existed.

Sometimes, no matter how you rearrange the words, it comes out sounding like an accusation. Accusations lead to defensiveness. Defensiveness leads to arguments. Arguments lead to nothing gets accomplished. And I am back to grumbling about something that bothers me...a lot.

Discovery

I am in a constant state of discovery about myself and the world around me. I would like to think this is true of most people, but sadly it is not so. Some people live in a very small world following the same trajectory day after day. For whatever reason their orbit never changes and life travels fast and soon they are left behind.

After such grand thoughts, here are a few recent discoveries...

I can never be suspicious because I find a wayward hair, no matter what color it is.

I own five pair of identical pants, except color. Three of them are various shades of khaki...light, dark, olive. The other two...brown and black. I am not an exciting dresser.

I washed laundry and had 3 unmatched socks.

The advantage to tinted car windows is nobody can see in. The disadvantage to tinted car windows is nobody can see in. This being based on what is going on inside the car.

Aren't you glad I shared?

Dumpster diving

I was on Facebook recently, jumping from profile to profile through friends of friends of friends. I came across a profile that made me wonder how sad this persons life must be. A profile that they themselves had designed to represent something about who they are, where they've been or even where they are going. Their "About me" listed the high school they graduated from. This person graduated high school 30 years ago. I guess it is true, some people never find better glory days.

Self perception and comfort zone

Recently I was invited to a birthday party. The guest of honor, the birthday boy himself, had requested a goth theme. Easy enough for me to do. I had not had an opportunity to pull out my favorite goth gear in a while and found myself very excited at the prospect. Eventually, I found myself in a long black skirt, slit to the hip, black combat style boots, black lace sleeveless shirt and fishnet stockings...add pale makeup, dramatic eyes and black lipstick. This outfit was comfortable, like a long lost friend.

As we headed out to the party, my husband looked me up and down and mentioned we were going to have to stop at a store to pick up supplies. I assured him that I was not concerned about walking into a store dressed as I was. So of course he picked a tiny, little, locally owned, grocery. As soon as I stepped from the car, I knew heads were swiveling. I held my head up, looking straight forward, smiled and paid them no mind. I was perfectly comfortable.

Next stop, a little neighborhood liquor store. The reaction of the men as I walked through the doors made me smile even brighter. This was not the place we usually shop...as they have almost gotten used to some of the outfits, purple wigs, etc that I have been known to wear for events. As I made my purchase, the man behind the counter wished me a fine evening three times.

Today, I crawled out of bed, destination...grocery store. I grabbed a summer dress that I normally only wear around the house. It is brightly colored (for me), patterned and best of all very comfortable. It slides down the body as if you are wearing nothing. I have never worn this dress past the boundaries of my yard. It is comfortable to wear, but I am not comfortable in it. I walked into Kroger and immediately felt like everyone was staring. I felt the need to be smaller, less noticeable, even though I was wearing a more socially accepted, bought at Target, dress.

It's all about being where you are comfortable.

In the beginning...

Vampires are everywhere...the beastie du jour. Zombies are creatures of the midnight movie. A fairy greets you at the beginning of everything Disney. Elves abound. Little girls dream of unicorns...and big boys dream of mermaids. We are surrounded by stories of these creatures of myth.

Listen carefully as I tell you a story about the creatures that are real, not just those that go bump in the night...but those that walk in the light. The movement you sense, when no one is there. The shadow that raises goosebumps and sends you scurrying away. The cold chill in a warm room. They are among us, you feel them, catch glimpses and explain it all away...to save yourself and your sanity.

But what if...they took form?

Recent encounters

To the person in the Mommy van that took the shoulder in a screeching, rock sliding halt, rather than making both of your vehicles significantly shorter...thank you.

To the guy on the motorcycle that popped a wheelie and rode it down the highway, cool stunt...but your an idiot.

To the guy that said he bet I'd be beautiful if I smiled...nope, it just changes the way I look.

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.