Damn, Sarah Palin Gets More Play Than Me. Not Cool.

Last night a friend and I killed an entire bottle of wine while trying to figure out the effects of Mercury going into retrograde on our dating lives. We discussed men, women, relationships, dating, sex and starting over, with such query and determination for a solution it was as if we were solving our country's economic crisis. We came to the conclusion that after X number of boyfriends, boos and papis later, we know absolutely nothing about men, dating or relationships. We convened to let the "Universe and Stars" deal with it.

As I rode the train home, I thought back to my last date. It was with a 6'6 musician from the midwest nearly two months ago! Geez, I really need to get out more or as my friend like to say, "my 'G' levels are low." LOL. But it's all good, the "universe and stars will take care of it."

I began to read the paper when I came across an article that made me laugh. It was piece on Sarah Palin and her Foreign Policy tutorial. Below is an excerpt from the article which captures the exchange of the first meeting of Palin and Asif Ali Zardari, the new presdient of Pakistan and Sherry Rehman, the Pakistan information minister.

• “I am honored to meet you,” Ms. Palin said.

• “You are even more gorgeous than you are on the (inaudible),” Mr. Zardari said.

• “You are so nice,” Ms. Palin replied. “Thank you.”

• “Now I know why the whole of America is crazy about you,” Mr. Zardari continued. At which point an aide told the two to shake hands.

• “I’m supposed to pose again,” Ms. Palin said.
  

• “If he’s insisting,” Mr. Zardari said, “I might hug.”
  

• Earlier, Sherry Rehman, the Pakistani information minister, had welcomed Ms. Palin. “Busy on the campaign trail?” she asked the governor.
  
• “Yes, yes,” Ms. Palin replied.

• “How does one keep looking that good?” Ms. Rehman asked.
  

• “Oh, oh, thank you,” the governor replied.

I laughed more so out of disbelief and shock at the blatant sexist remarks by world leaders!! There is so much to deconstruct here; gender and equality, culture, sex and power. The list can go on and on, but instead of dissecting these social constructs I thought, "Damn, Sarah Palin is getting more play than me!" Wow my G levels must really be low! Not cool!

Am I Being Selfish?

Am I being selfish for....

• wanting to spend my Sundays ALONE watching football and reading the NY Sunday Times


• not picking up my phone when it rings because ( a) i know the person on the other line really has nothing to say or discuss, but will find something to complain about, (b) or I rather finish reading my book or paper, (c) or I just don't want to speak with anyone


• preferring to spend my free time sitting in a cafe reading, writing, researching aka googling anything, running or biking, than at someone's house catching up. I WOULD, however, prefer to catch up with them over coffee at a cafe, while I'm taking a break from working the activities mentioned above


• not returning a text message because I know the other person will likely want to meet up and talk about all the bad shit in their life


• not wanting to chat it up in the office on Monday mornings or Friday afternoons about my weekend/plans for the weekend - OK maybe this is me just hating office bantar.
  

A friend recently said, " You're always busy and never have time to hang out." The funny thing is that I don't necessarily feel busy, but I know always have something to do. Sounds like an oxymoron, but it's true. I don't like spending my free time doing nothing - at home watching TV, except if it's football on Sundays or Monday nights. I love going out for dinner and drinks with friends, but I'm trying to be much more budget conscious, given these tough economic times. I know what you're gonna say, " It doesn't cost much to make dinner at home and buy a bottle a wine." And I totally agree! However, when I get into my solitude groove it's hard for me to get back into the social responsibility of maintaining friendships.

The truth is friendships are hard work! It's a full-time job that can really fill up my social calendar. Dinner with Jen on Monday, Obama fundraiser event hosted by Michael on Wednesday, drinks with Maria on Thursday, bday party for Lisa on Friday night and brunch with Julie on Saturday. And that's only knocks out 4 people off my long list of friends. I also have to include meetings for networking purposes - meet with professor from Hunter afterwork, panel discussion on state of education, or dinner with recruiter from X company. It's just a lot for someone who prefers to be alone.

But you know what?! Life is all about balance and I think I am being selfish. I appreciate my friend who called me out on "always being busy." I recognize that I need keep up with my friendships, especially those that have been critical to my spiritual and emotional development.

Soooo...Thank you for calling me out! Oh I know, maybe my friends can come over and watch football on Sundays! Some beer, chips and catch up during half time! LOL..... kidding, just kidding.

Stepping Up To The Box

It all happened so quickly. From the moment we got off the plane you could feel the tightness in the air and the sorrow and grief in everyone’s hearts. It was as if the entire country was in mourning. When we arrived at la sala de velorio there were about a 3 dozen people sitting in the pews facing the box. Some of them I hadn’t seen in years and others I’d never met. Tight embraces and quiet sobs replaced our hellos and introductions. No words were needed; we were bound by the same grief.

As we walked in everyone made a beeline for the box. They stepped up and peered over. Some peeked over in out of curiosity; while other cried and wailed uncontrollably for Diosito to bring her back. I wasn’t surprised he stepped up to the box; after all she was his sister. He put his glasses on and examined her every detail from her hair down to her shoes. But surprisingly he didn’t cry.

I couldn’t bring myself to step up to the box. Why would I want to see a desiccated physical form of who she was? I wanted to keep in my mind and heart an image of her that truly embodied her spirit. When I close my eyes I can still see her sitting at the kitchen table sharing a drink with me. I can still smell her perfume of home remedies, a concoction of agua bendita y herbitas.

We shared a connection I can’t explain. She felt my thought and dreamt my dreams. She loved me. And she knew I loved her before I did. Sometimes I would find her sitting alone staring blankly out at nothing; her deep eyes red and watery. It could have been my naiveté or my emotional midgetry, but I could never bring myself to ask her what was wrong or dare to lend her any consoling words. To be honest, her emotions scared; my emotions scared me. Instead, I just sat there; listening and hoping that in my silence I could share and alleviate her pain. Maybe all she needed was to hear me say I love you, but I never did. I just couldn’t.

And that’s why I feel so frustrated! I wish we could have shared more, talked more! There’s so much I wish I could have said and done. I’m older now! I could have provided her the emotional support she needed when she sat there alone. Why couldn't I get over my own stuff to be there for her?! I was being selfish.

In retrospect, I can admit it was really my frustration and selfishness that kept me from stepping up to the box. People say that mourning death is a selfish act. But mourning is also very normal and necessary.

Lesson from the Earth

Deciding to backpack, by myself, through Thailand and Argentina is probably one of the best decisions I've ever made. There was no specific reason why I chose two extreme locations on the map. I had no experience traveling alone, didn't know anyone living abroad, and aside from knowing my arrival and departure city and date, I had no itinerary for my trip. I guess you can say I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. All I knew was I had to leave to find or do whatever it was that was waiting for me. And I needed to do it alone.

People ask me if I really needed to travel across the world to "find" myself. The answer is no, of course not. Truth is, the answers were right in front of me, but I was just too consumed with the everyday routine and bullshit to really see it. I needed to leave my physical environment to really begin listening to my heart and learn the lessons the universe was trying to teach me.

This backpacking experience put my mental and emotional strength and perseverance to the test. Following a great piece of advice from a spiritually connected friend, I resolved to be free do anything and everything I've wanted to do, but have been too scared to try. After my first 3 days in Bangkok, I began to feel restless and took it as a sign to keep moving. I booked a sleeper train and traveled 2o some hours north to Chiang Mai. I absolutely loved the sleeper train. I felt very Marilyn Monroe in Some like It Hot. I preferred the smaller city, less congested feel of Chiang Mai over Bangkok. Once settled into my guesthouse, I set out to explore the city on foot. Over the next couple of days, with my handy dandy Let’s Go Thailand book, I visited the local wats, chatted up it up with a monk, shopped at night markets, and attended a Muy Thai boxing match. Feeling proud of myself for all that I had done on my own, I decided to be a bit more adventurous and sign up for a trek into the hill tribes of Chiang Mai. As you may have guessed, I don't like to plan. When I signed up for this trek I failed get all the details. I was told the trek included a few hours of hiking, visiting and sleeping in local hill tribes, elephant riding, white water rafting, and bamboo rafting.

The trek started out with an hour ride to the entrance of the mountain we were set to hike. For the record, I've never actually hiked before. I went to Bear Mountain on a high school trip once, but never actually hiked. The first hour into the hike was a moderate hour walk. However, the path quickly became progressively harder. By the second hour, it turned into a difficult 2 hour uphill hike.

Now, I’d like to think I'm in descent shape. Hell, I ran a marathon, which must count for something. But it’s an understatement to say, I struggle d to keep up with the rest of my group. I was sweating like a beast and barely able to keep my breath. To my credit, I wasn’t feeling 100%. I woke up that morning with a bad case of food poisoning complete with vomiting and stomach cramps. Barely able to hold down a piece of bread, I skipped breakfast that morning. Hello?! The most important meal of the day! By the third hour into the hike, I was expending more energy than I put into my system. We stopped every 45 minutes for about 10 minutes to re-hydrate. With only two bottles of water for the first day, I quickly learned how to ration my supplies. To make matters worse, in addition to being an inexperienced hiker, I didn’t have the appropriate gear. Instead of hiking boots, I wore an old pair of running sneakers. I began to feel like the weakest link on Survivor.

Despite the intensity of the first few hours of the hike, I was tired, but still in good spirits. We finally arrived at Yao tribe village, where we were scheduled to have lunch. Unfortunately, still unable to hold down any food, I also skipped lunch. The particular community of the Yao tribe was where Lex, our tour guide, was from. We met and ate lunch with his 13 year old cousin, her 25 year husband and his opium smoking grandma. This was a lot to take in, but hey when in Rome, right.

After an hour break we set back out on our journey. The rest of the hike was a grueling mix of uphill and downhill paths, some which had never been walked through. Still in monsoon season, the rain had brought in lots of humidity. Rain + Humidity = constantly swatting away annoying mosquitoes and creepy crawlies away from my face. The hours of buzzing near my ears were horrible! I was a magnet for mosquitoes. Right at that moment, I had a brief concern for my health. In spite of the many warnings from experienced travelers, I failed to get my malaria pills and hepatitis shots. Well, technically I did go to my doctor the day before I left, but apparently you need to get vaccinated a month before you travel. Who knew?!

The wet season also left the hiking path wet, muddy and slippery. About three hours into the hike I twisted my ankle (the same ankle I sprained earlier in the year) and fell. Lex used some meager first aid tools to clean my leg. With no bandages or gauze to cover my wound, my leg was left scrapped and bloody. He said, “Don’t worry, blood will dry up.” He was also nice enough to make me a walking stick by using his machete to break off a long branch from a tree.

We finally arrived at the Karen tribe village. After the long day’s hike, the only thing on my mind was taking a shower. I'm not a high maintenance woman. I wasn't expecting a four star hut, but I definitely thought there would be more options to shower than a river or a hose and bucket al fresco. I couldn’t bring myself to shower in front of everyone, which wasn't a good look or smell after that 5 hour hike. By this point, I was beyond cranky.


Lex went to the work on making us dinner, another meal I couldn’t eat. After dinner, once the sun went down, there was very little to do for entertainment. The Karen people lived a very simple life with no amenities such as gas or electricity. They gave us a few candles, but instead of providing light it attracted more mosquitoes. With nothing to do, we decided to turn in by 9pm. I slept in a hut, on a bamboo floor under a princess (mosquito) net with two other guys. By midnight, while everyone else was snoring, I laid wide awake desperately trying not to think about having to go the bathroom. I was terrified to walk to the bathroom hut alone without a flashlight; and, of course, I couldn’t wake anyone else up. Instead, I decided to hold it. I figured I could force myself to sleep and forget all about it. However, just as I was falling asleep it started pouring rain. This had to be the worst day of my life!

As I lay under my princess net, trying to erase the memory of the entire day, it hit me like a ton of bricks. All the emotions rushed through my body at once. I was exhausted and hungry, reeked of sweat and mosquito repellent, in pain with stomach cramps, bladder ready to burst, a twisted ankle and bloody leg. I was frustrated and angry. I was mad at myself for getting sick, falling down, having to pee and everything else I couldn’t control. I was mad for not being strong enough to hike up the mountain without losing my breath; and smart enough to know what the hell I was doing. I trusted my gut to lead me through, what I thought was going to be an amazing experience; but instead I found myself in a bamboo hut, under a princess net, holding my pee in the middle of nowhere Thailand! I started cry and continued crying for an hour straight. Fortunately, the sounds of my cries were competing with the rain. The harder it rained; the harder I cried.

I only slept about 2 hours that night, but somehow I woke up the next morning feeling revitalized. It was almost felt like the rain and my crying symbolically washed away all my frustration and anger. Although, I was still in pain and continued to reek, I felt the worst was over. I still had another full day ahead including two hours of hiking, elephant riding, white water and bamboo rafting; but it all seems doable. So what if I didn’t know how to swim. I would figure it out. :)

As we drove back down into the city, I couldn’t help but smile thinking of all I accomplished. I was proud of myself for overcoming the physical adversities of the trek; but more importantly, I was proud of breaking down the mental and emotional blocks I created. I began thinking of all times I put up blocks. The countless times I doubted my strength and gave into my fears preventing me from leaving an unfulfilling job or tearing away from unhealthy relationships.

Thinking back on that night I cried, I realized I was having a conversation with the Earth. She reminded me that I was a part of her; and we were forever spiritually connected. Like her, I am nurturing and stable, solid and firm, full of endurance and strength. She wasn’t trying to break me down. She was forcing me to see my true power and strength.

Guess what Mother Earth? I see it. I finally see it. And all it took was a twisted ankle, banged up leg, food poisoning, and possible malaria. Damn, I must be really stubborn.

Lesson from the Earth: You're stronger than you think. And once you realize it, it will change how you see yourself in the world.

My Turn To Wake Up

The months prior to my leave of absence were mentally and emotionally draining. I was unhappy going to work, and anxious and restless with just being. I consumed my every hour with work, family or friends. When there was no work or other people to deal with, I became more and more anxious. I hated the idea of just resting. Once my physical body took a break, my mind would start racing. I hid behind work, family and friends to avoid dealing with bigger issue.

I was unhappy, but my life was good. There was nothing major to complain about. I had a job, decent health (minus one or two kidney stones), healthy family and friends, roof over my head, paying all my bills, etc. In a nutshell, I was content, but not happy. I began to realize the anxiety and restleness I felt was actually my soul was calling for help; telling me there was more to my life than what I was doing. I started to notice my life was merely an unfulfilling routine. I was living everyday to task in fear of making wrong decisions, if I veered off course.

I preoccupied myself with work and family because I was in denial. I didn't want to deal with the question, "What do I have to change in my life to be truly happy? Was it my job? Relationships with family and friends?" It eventually caught up to me, but I'm glad it did. It was my turn to wake up.

Hell, even a random stranger knew it was time for me to wake up. A couple a months ago, around May, I walked into one of my favorite book stores in the city, East West Books. I was just browsing, like I normally do, when a random hippie-looking dude in his early 60's, began to strike up a conversation with me.


He complemented me on my fresh new tattoo, a lotus flower with an ohm sign on my back, and asked, "So, I'm assuming you're on your path?"

Taken off guard, I gave him a puzzled look.

He pointed to my back and said, "Your tattoo."

It took me a minute to understand, and then I responded, "Kinda."

He shook his head and said, "No, you're either on it or you're not."

"No, it's just that I haven't figured out all the pieces yet." I responded defensively.

He said, "That's bullshit. What do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure." I replied.

He asked again, this time with more command, "What do you want to do?"

I started getting nervous, but not because the strange hippie dude was getting loud. Instead, it was because I didn't have an answer. I began fidgeting, looking away, and crossing my arms and legs. He quickly pulled my arms apart and ordered me to stop.

He looked into my eyes like he was peering into a peep hole, touched my head and said, "Don't answer from here." Then he pointed to my heart and said, "Answer from here."

It took every fiber of my being not to break down in tears. I started fidgeting again. And once again, he told me to stop. After a long pause, I said, "I want to go away. I need to leave all of this. I'm just tired of all of it. I don't know maybe travel for a bit, maybe even move somewhere out of New York for a while."

"Then do it. Go!" he said.

I replied, "It's not that easy. I can't pick up and just go. What if I make the wrong decision?"

He said, "Why not? What's the worse that can happen? You come back?"

He continued to stare at me, smiled and said:

Look at you. Your parents did a great job at raising you. They gave you everything they never had and more. They protected you from all the bad things in the world, but now all their fears have now become your fears. That's not you. You know how many people get sick and eventually die because they don't listen to their heart? Do you want that to be you?

I felt like a child being scolded for not following directions. I looked down, shook my head and said, "No."

"Then listen to your heart, follow you're soul's path and go. If you don't go, you'll just be another pretty girl with a tattoo on her back." he responded.

I simply nodded my head in agreement, letting it all sink it. I couldn't believe it was that obvious. Even when I wasn't thinking about it, the unhappiness and anxiety was looming over my spirit.

The last piece of advice the hippie dude gave me was on a card he told me to keep. It said, "Relax. God's in control." He followed that by saying it didn't matter what I believed in, but to simply trust that it's all taken care of. He left by telling me he was a regular at the bookstore and playfully warned that he never wanted to see me there again.

Now, that's what I call a rude awakening.

One Year Older, 10 Years Smarter...I Hope

It's hard pinpoint the exact age when you realize you've finally learned your lesson. In fact, learning from our mistakes may be a never ending process. However, I'm really hoping this year marks a turning point in my life. Given all I've been through in my professional and personal life, I'm trusting myself to spot those pink flags before they become red. No longer in my early twenties or recently out of college, can say, "I didn't know it was going to turn out this way." No more excuses! I've fallen too many times not to know where the traps are.

One year older, 10 years smarter is what I resolved to be when I turned 27, earlier this year. I've ridden my life of a job and relationship that was depleting my emotional and mental energy. I started the new year ready to execute big plans for 2008. Now, without getting into too much detail, I'm caught in a situation where I'm being put to the test of proving whether I'm in fact 1 year old and 10 years smarter. My friendship with someone, over the past couple of weeks, has become become a bit too friendly. I keep telling myself, "It's all good. I know what's going on."

But then my 37 year old self comes shaking her head, giving me that disapproving look and asking, "Really? Is this what you really want? Hello! Red flags!"

I responded, "This is nowhere near a red flag, not even a pink, but more like a fuchsia flag. This is what I want right NOW.

She tells me, "I'm sure you're having fun and if it's all good, do it. But what's gonna happen when you realize this isn't what you want? Will the universe have to intervene with some catastrophe?"

Argh! I hate it when she's right! I'm creature of habit and a selfish one at that. I want consistency on my timeline. This is what I want right now. Is there anything wrong with that?

I'm not just being tested on the personal front. It took me a long time to realize that I have no interest in pursing a career that chases the dollar. I honestly believe that happiness brings prosperity. I'm not trying to be rich. I just want to be comfortable.

However, my overly friendly friend's ambitious desire to take over the world and make a lot of money has made me question my own goals. I remember being recently out of college and having big goals of making a lot money through various business investments. There was actually a point in my life when I thought about starting my own business. And you know what, it could have happened, if I truly had a passion for it.

All this made me question what the hell I was doing with my life. Why was I not making 6 figures? Truth is, if I would have stayed at my previous job, I could have made 6 figures within 4 or 5 years in or out of that company. But I wasn't happy! I was content. What if I dedicated 2-3 years of my life to working my butt off to start my own business or getting into a field that would generate a whole lot of money? Would that give me a jump start to being happy?

This is where my 37 older self starts trying to give me advice. She tells me, "Oh, come on now. You know damn well you have no interest in opening up a new business venture. In fact, you hate interacting with some of these wanna be cut throat business folks who barely know you're alive unless you're willing to put down a mil for their investment."

It's all true. Many of these wanna be business moguls have this awful energy around them that repels normal people from wanting to spend more than 5 minutes with them. But right now I'm beginning to wonder, "Maybe I can do this for a year or two before I start school. Making some extra money wouldn't hurt."

After analyzing my situation, I began to realize I was on the path that was making me more money but it wasn't making me happy. Instead, I've decided that trusting my heart and going back to school to follow one of my passions would bring me prosperity, but more importantly happiness.

But it's all just a test, right? This doesn't really count as not being 10 years smarter, right?

Must Be Nice

Ever wake up to the annoying sound of your alarm saying, "I don't want to go to work today, tomorrow or ever again"? I remember waking up to that feeling everyday for about a year before I decided to take "break".

In August of 2007, I took a 3 month leave of absence from work. After 3 and 1/2 years, I desperately needed a break from the intensity of my work; the summers spent away from home pulling 19 hour days, weeks of traveling and the emotional investment of supporting a community of adult learners. I spent time traveling, meditating and searching for whatever it was that was going to make my my soul truly happy, not just content. I am happy to report that I had an amazing time backpacking sola through Thailand and Argentina. Although, I haven't exactly found what's going to make my happy, I'm on the way to finding my path. More details about my adventures to come!

It's been six months since my break started and I have not yet returned to work. To make a long story short, my leave of absence, unbeknownst to me, became a termination of employment. I committed almost 4 years to a job that wasn't exactly your 9-5. And now, because of a "miscommunication", I was being told I was no longer employed. The funny thing is I was secretly hoping to return from my travels to find the organization no longer needed me. I've been unhappy at my job for a long time, but was too scared to leave. Each year the money and title became harder and harder to give up. I figured if they let me go I could collect a severance, file for unemployment and then look for another job. I would be golden, right!?

Yeah, no, not so much. Being told I longer had a position, after returning from leave, left me feeling undervalued and disempowered. I felt like a loser. This was my first time not working since the age of 12. Whether it was a summer, weekend, full or part-time job, I was always working. In fact, I fell into an ity bity depression due to my job situation (I no longer had one), living situation (i was almost homeless), and some major cleansing on the relationship front(platonic and romantic). But, no need to worry people I'm all good now. I made a work plan and everything!

I was fortunate enough to have great friends to help me through all of it. While I was calling myself a loser, they were trying to convince me that I was going through a much needed transition. However, to be honest, there were some friends who were straight up haters! I mean, I couldn't believe some of the comments I would hear when I was asked about my leave/work situation.

Some of the top responses were:

1. Must be nice. I wish I could do that, but I can't with my type of job.
2. Must be nice. I couldn't be home all day doing nothing, I would lose my mind.
3. ...you have too much time on your hands. You need to get a job.

Or some other comments made at random moments

1. Damn, your hair is looking nice now-a-days. Must be nice to have a lot of time on your hands
2. So, (long pause) when are you going back to work? (there was a lot tone in that one)
3. Why do you have to go home early? Not like you have get up early to go to work.
4. Well, I need to go. Some of us have to work tomorrow.

I didn't tell many people about my depression, so it's possible to say, they didn't know and wouldn't have made those comments if they did. I'm also not denying that I've been extra sensitive regarding my situation and that I may be reading too much into these comments. Yes, I know this is my baggage and "stuff", but these comments are hurtful and definitely not friendly.

The truth is anyone can take a leave of absence. It's a choice you make that comes with big financial and emotional risks including coming back to find you have NO job or falling into a slump where you begin to doubt your self-worth. I'm not claiming that taking a leave of absence is an easy decision to make. It took me about a year to finally gather up the cojones do it. Not many people are strong enough to take a leave, but trust me, if and when the time is right, you'll know.

In closing, don't hate. I hope you too one day have the cojones to take control of your own life and happiness. And yes, for the record, it's damn nice!

The Slow Bunny is Finally Getting in the Fast Lane

I always seem to be the slow bunny when it comes getting in on big cultural trends. I only got cable about two years ago and still don't understand this TiVo/DVR business. I think they're the same things, right? Before then, I lived on channels 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, a fuzzing 31, 41 and 47. My Internet service was dial-up for most of my life. High speed came with the cable package. Gotta love Time Warner! And it's only recently that I've become an active member on facebook by writing on walls, poking, and sending gifts to 101 of my closest friends! And don't get me started on texting! I still have a love hate relationship with that shit.

Now there's blogging. OK correction, I've NOW discovered blogging. I'll admit that I've been one of the biggest haters out there. Why would anyone assume that their deep, or in many cases not so deep, thoughts would be of interest to others. I don't want to hear about your issues with mass transit, your ex-boo, political stance, or that cat who never called you back. Yeah, I know, it's therapeutic and I don't have to read it. You're 100% right. The truth is my hate for blogs started when I came across a blog posting an ex of mine wrote about his issues with relationships. Man was he full of it! Self-righteous fool. Oh wait, I'm starting to blog about an ex-boo. My bad.

Anyhow, I digress. The point is they're right! And that's exactly why I've started this blog. Because I have things to say and you don't necessarily have to listen, or in this case read it. But, I do encourage you to read it. Why? Well because I'd like to think I'm a pretty thoughtful person and very deep at times. I have things to say because lots of things go through my mind and sometimes, I honestly just don't like talking to people. Yes, even my closest friends. I don't claim to be an expert in anything but rather an observer of everything. I will do my best not be a self-righteous fool, like some people i know, and stand on soap box trying to shove cliche rhetoric down your throat. If I do, please please check me on it.

I'm also blogging to get into the habit of writing again. I have big plans for the next couple of years that include graduate school and lots of writing.

Now, the key question is how do I give my friends the link to my blog without having them tell me I told you so?...