Yep, its about that time again.....S&$*@#!!

Someone just PALEASE cut it off already! Seriously. This time I was just walking out of my room but didn't have my shoes tied. However with this one I had an audience. Not embarrassing at all...I look like I have elephantitis.

The Great 28

Just wanted to say thanks to all who made my b-day great this year...and for those who came to both the parties. By and large my "odd" years have been much better than my even years. But I am going to make this year different. I abhor outlandish resolutions that are nothing more than empty delusions of grandeur. I like to keep it real. Last year my goals were to buy a piano and play it three times a week, train so I could run 10 miles, take a Spanish class and go on a humanitarian trip....
Well I did buy a piano. But the lack of execution of the other seemingly attainable goals left me feeling like a fantastic failure.
So this year I vow to always use my blinker, even if no one is around and I don't think its necessary, and keep my upstairs plant alive for another year. I'll let you know how it goes...wish me luck
Enjoy my birthday Haka

It was better'n 89.

Well the holidays are over and I can't say that I am sad to see them go. But even now I am getting the question 'how was your Christmas?" The problem is I have a hard time responding with the salutary "good, how was yours." Instead, on three different occasions in the last week, I could not help but say "It beat 89." Then of course I have to explain, something they did not sign up for. But then again...they asked.... Around 4:30 a.m. of Dec. 25, 1989 I was in hell. My brother and I had gotten up and had sneaked around the living room enough to know that the milk and cookies we had left out for Santa had paid off. I could see silhouettes of mammoth gifts and neither of us could wait any longer. But my parents had slapped an embargo on any Christmas activity prior to 5:30 a.m. and even after army crawling into my parents bedroom and setting the clock ahead 10 minutes, waiting was agony. After the longest hour of my life to that date was over the lights came on and revealed what my Jan 2, 1990 journal entry describes as "a two-story toy store." Yes, I was precocious. I won't get into all the gifts that I received that year because it is really of no consequence, (even though the rock tumbler that I got from St. Nick that day kicked off my glorious 6 year stint as a rock hound). But what did emerge from that day is me judging all preceding Christmases by the pile of gifts. I don't recall a year I have ever been disappointed thanks to the fact that my parents think they are Mr. and Mrs. Claus, regardless of the fact that most of us are adults now. But no year...until Christmas of 2007 has licked '89. This year I got everything from a plasma TV to a BBQ grill...a massage chair to kitchenware...my car could barely fit everything....

I must have done something to tickle Santa this year. And my parents...and my boyfriend and my cat, and the neighbor.

I know what you are thinking about all this...."what an infantile little tart I don't care what she got for Christmas,"...."does she really not get what Christmas is about?"...."isn't she 27 now?"

Well before Christmas I spent an entire week shopping for, organizing and delivering gifts for poor young'ns. There were Christmas hugs, tears and the whole Christmas spirit works, so get off my back about it. Peace.