Going Home again

I went home this past weekend. Well not home to where I currently live, but home to where I grew up. I wasn't alone this time, I took Mie with me, I showed her my little piece of history. The house that I grew up in, the street where we played, fought, partied and struggled with loss. It's changed dramatically, the street which seemed like my whole world as I was growing up, the area which was my own little micro universe, vast and expansive when I was single digits in age running around bare chested with my barefeet, now seemed so small and almost confining. Since leaving there I've lived in 3 different states, two on either end of California, the other in the central states area only to eventually move back to my home state. 

I showed her the schools which were huge when I was going to them, now they are so tiny. Places that I hung out at with friends in middle and high school are now gone, the local pizza parlor where we would go every Wednesday night for their all you can eat pizza or to see or be seen by that special person who stirred those strange feelings for the first time in our young hearts or a little lower, the Rexall drug store where we would go to get the 5 cent candies, the local liquor store where we would play the cutting edge video games like Galaga and Zaxon or Centipede as they had just come out, even the place with the best breakfasts and burgers in the world. The places where we grew up knowing in our own little microcosm, gone... lost to the housing jungle where 72 houses were put on less than 5 acres of memories. To say the least, that was heart breaking.

I even took her to the hill where it seemed like most of my friends stole their first kiss while looking out over the lights of the valley. All of this brought back a flood of memories, including the first day that I walked MG to the same kindergarten classroom that I attended, my teacher, Mrs Carter long since retired, but my first day of school still fresh in my mind.

I had fun showing Mie around, pointing out things that I thought were important and some of the fun little memories associated with each place.

Blissfully ignorant

I like to think sometimes, that there really isn't anything outside of my subjective reality. Without getting too freakishly deep into quantum physics and all the other psycho babble that's out there, I like to be blissfully ignorant at times.

I like Thanksgiving Turkey, I don't need to know how we get said turkey, per se, I just want to eat one. I have a friend who works for Jeannie-O Turkey herders out in Minnesota. He thought that it would be both beneficial and educational to give us a virtual tour of the farms out there. From the hatchlings all the way out to the slaughterhouse, and the V shaped knives that remove the turkey's head from the neck. Do I need to know this information? No I don't. Do I need to be educated on the ways of the Turkey? Absolutely not. Do I want to remain blissfully ignorant on the life of a turkey? A very resounding yes.

I know that there are people out there who are very much dead set against eating one of God's creatures, and we should all just go without this barbarous tradition, but I have to say just one thing, Not eating meat is a choice, eating meat is an instinct.

Question

So I was thinking, Catholics believe in heaven, but they don't believe in past lives. So if when you die and go to heaven, do they consider this life a past life? If so, does that mean that this life doesn't exist?

I'm willing to listen to points of view.

Joyous Reunion

This morning is a little slow, I couldn't sleep so I came into work a LOT early. I was trying to figure out what it was. It's the season. I've always really liked the beginning of the Holiday season, the costumes of Halloween, with the little kids coming up and trying to say Trick or Treat as their first real sentence, and the turning of the trees through their fall colors.

I remember the big pot of "home made" chili and corn bread before going out trick or treating, I also remember really wanting to be a robot one year because I saw this really cool costume at the store, but ending up with a box with a bunch of buttons penciled on the front, holes cut in the top and sides for my head and arms, my uncle giving me some dryer hose to go over my arms, smaller boxes to go over my shoes and an aluminum foil helmet. POOF! I was a robot. Or the torn up jeans and shirt and a whole body of green body paint to make a 2nd grade Incredible"ly small" Hulk.

I also remember my parents walking around with us, holding hands and exuding love, even though they never really had a whole lot, they had each other, and that was enough to get through.

One of the great things about having kids is that you get to relive all of the great memories from your childhood.

The other thing that I realized this morning is that this is the 9th anniversary of our Mom passing away. Some people would be sad that they lost their mom, but for us, it was a joyous reunion for our mom and dad. We wept, of course, but we also realized that she was much happier now that our parents were together again.

Love you mom, see you in about 50 years...

Death and disassociative writing

Monday night I got a terrible shock, it was one of my best friends birthday. He's only about 6 months older than I am, but that's not the shocker. One of the guys that we went to high school with had died suddenly due to a heart attack or something. I'm not sure, I was getting the information 2nd hand.

Here is a guy who almost always seemed to be in good health in most respects. Dead of a heart attack at 36. My friend the Plumper, had known Rich fairly well because he had been dating Plumpers little sister for a while.

Death has a funny way of rearing it's ugly little head now and again to remind me that, yes, I am still alive, but am I living? I tend to not dwell on death too awfully long, but more on things that I could be doing to be living. I could tell people that I love that I love them. I never miss a chance to tell MG that I love her, if I don't tell her in the morning when I wake her up to let her know that I'm leaving and that I love her, than at night just before she goes to bed. I've been trying to tell Mie more on a regular basis, and to tell her how much I really appreciate her. Sometimes I think that she just thinks that I'm being goofy, but I do.

Then there are the times when I'm being too serious, life is too vibrant to walk around being serious, especially with floppy eared hats. Mie has pictures to prove that point. :)

I've done some things in life that I had on my to do list. Things like playing with a Bengal Tiger cub, take flying lessons, go back to school, raise a child who would make my parents proud to have as their smart assed teen granddaughter. Some I've done more than once, like owning a classic Mustang, and some I don't think will come to fruition within my life time like living in a nice little subdivision in Serenity Lake with a nice little view over looking the Earth. Flying a Hillard's Flying platform would have been fun too, but not going to happen in the next 3 years, maybe after that though.

I have stories to write, a daughter to walk down the aisle after I watch her graduate from a prestiges school with a degree in something that she loves to do. I have grand babies to hold and a son-in-law to get use to. I still have a lot to do here, so I'm not any where near finished here.
I say that more for the fact that I don't get into that mindset of "Oh crap" and just get back to the business of living a happy fulfilled life.

So excuse me, but I've got things that I need to be doing, instead of sitting here in front of a computer monitor. I like you all, but I've got to go live.

Family Pride

I received a call today from an Officer JT Freeze from the Arizona Highway Patrol. He's calling about my brother, wanting to ask questions, not for the purpose of finding him or his being in trouble, but because he's applied for, tested through, and has been accepted (tentatively) into the Arizona Department of Public Safety, and the answers I give will help determine if he'll be fully accepted. I had to fight against telling the officer that my brother use to run naked through laundry mats with gerbils taped to his thighs, or that he had an affinity for plywood, or some other wild story as a joke. This is a person who has been chasing the dream of being an officer for a little over 20 years, since being in his late teens, early 20's and it looks to be finally coming true for him.

Officer Freeze asked me a question about what advice I would give my brother when he gets this job. My response: "Just keep doing what you're doing". Officer Freeze told me that when he interviewed our sister, he asked her that question, and she gave almost the same exact answer, word for word. Plus she added "... and keep your head down" :)

I don't think that I've ever said this to him or my sister, but I'm proud of them, both. He has been chasing his dream after 20 years without wavering. He has made some detours along the way, but he's always had the vision of what he wanted to do. He's built himself up to a point that he went through the Coca-Cola company starting as a "Merchandiser" and worked his way up to a manager within the company coordinating drivers for the entire Phoenix area. He's ran businesses for some and owned businesses of his own, and all the while being a great father, being the father that our parents would be proud to have raising their grand babies. Now is his time to fulfill his dreams.

It goes the same for my sister, except in a slightly different way. To be completely honest, I don't remember what it was that she wanted to be when she grew up, but she's a loving mother and wife to her family. They get her all when she's awake, this is a woman who is extremely strong mentally, emotionally, and physically, me being 6'1" and 230lbs, I'm still afraid of her 5' nothing and maybe 120lbs sopping wet while holding bricks in both hands.

She has the tenacity to do pretty much anything or to become what ever it was that her heart desires, and she's done that by being a phenomenal mom and wife. Her daughters are all great people, who are also smarter than we were at their age, and when they make relatively stupid mistakes, she doesn't get truly mad, she just says to them "It's a good thing you're pretty" all the while being someone that our parents would beam about with pride.

Our parents are both gone and I know that there have been times when we had questions for them about being a parent, and not having them physically there, we have had to figure things out, but I think that our parents gave us the tools we needed to be the people that we are,and needed to be, which includes creating a strong cohesion within our family, no matter the distance between us or the length of time it's been since we've seen each other or have spoken on the phone. That is my family unit, it maybe small and at times it maybe broken, but it's mine and I'm proud to lay claim to it.

I'm Proud of my Brother for his unwavering focus to follow his dreams, and I'm proud of my sister for making the life choices that she wanted to make to raise their girls and to make their family stronger. We aren't rich by any stretch of the imagination, we're not world famous, what we are is liked by those who meet us, and loved by those who we let get to know us... I'm proud of us...

Drinks

I have this affinity for finding fun and exciting things to eat or drink, you know, Buffalo, Bison, Ostrich, Bear, elk, cat(don't ask, it was a Chinese food restaurant that is now closed, but it does taste like chicken). Things that you don't see at the usual grocery marts. And there's a place around the corner from where I work, which at one time was a rather large regional "Italian Deli" chain, called Corti Bros. They have a great selection of exotic foods and drinks in there, some of stuff in there I haven't even heard of, or I have only heard as rumors.

I found such a drink this afternoon. When I was growing up and Little Big Sis and Darth Older Brother and I would be acting up, our parents would ask us if we had been drinking the Kickapoo Joy Juice... I thought that it was just a funny saying, not so much any more. This afternoon, I have found a bottle of said Joy Juice so I had to buy it, guess what? It tastes just like Mt Dew, but made with pure cane sugar. So now when someone asks if I'm all hopped up on Kickapoo Joy Juice, I can say AB-solutely.

I also found a drink called Moxie, I'm not sure what it's suppose to taste like, but it was good, and it wasn't carbonated. I've noticed that there is something lost in Fructose Corn Syrup, it just doesn't taste as good as pure cane sugar.

I did however find something that tastes surprisingly like honey, it's Agave Nectar... yes, that's right, the same Agave that Te-kill-ya is made from, it's sweet like honey. I was told about it from a friend at work, apparently there's a Te-kill-ya bar here in Cowtown where I work and they make an Agave Nectar Margarita. Always the curious kid that I am, I had to search out this Nectar and give it a try. After searching the interweb thingy for a recipe for Agave Nectar Margarita's, I found one which looked like it was easy enough that my pea sized, swiss cheese brain could remember. I got the ingredients and made a Margarita...

The thing was pretty good, and about 10 minutes later, I was stumbling. I already know that I'm a relative light weight, I can only do 12 shots of tequila before I get a decent buzz going. So I had to make one when Mie was home and not on-call. So I did, and I was happy to see that I wasn't the only one who got knocked on their butt. If you like Margarita's, I'd like to offer up this recipe for you, enjoy:

1 oz, Partida Agave Nectar
(I was told by a friend who tried at least 4 different brands that this was the best one)

1 oz, filtered water

1 fresh squeezed lime

1.5 - 2 oz 100% Blue agave Tequila
(I used the Cabo Wabo Anejo, expensive, but worth it)

Shake and serve over ice, do not use salt, that's only used to kill the taste of bad tequila, in my humble opinion...

Mullets

So I got to reading Sybil's blog today and the very first paragraph of the top blog post was about how her father-in-law was going to start growing a mullet.

Well what's wrong with Mullets? I mean if you have a mullet, all you need to do is get a trans am, some gold chains, skin tight acid washed jeans complete with acid washed jean jacket, a torn shirt to resemble a tank top and some white shoes with the velcro strap at the top, and you're set.

The early 90's weren't good to me, I'm not going to be doing anything to resemble myself 18 years ago. If her father-in-law goes to a concert, then he would be the creepy old guy at the concert who should be home eating top ramon rather than being out at a show.

I had to go out onto the interweb thingy and look for websites dedicated to mullets, because, well they're funny...

here's just one that I found

and another
and yet another but unfortunately the one that I really liked won't come up but I'll give that one too, here ya go

Special

Yes you're special..
Wearing a helmet walking down the street, licking the windows of the short bus special....

I love people.

Destruction, hope, wedding, Nirvana

I got a call about 6 months ago from a friend of mine who was getting married. He asked if I would be his best man, I said sure. There wasn't even a doubt that I'd miss the wedding, but with such an honor I would definitely be there. My next question was "Do I need to send the RSVP back?"

I don't know, I've been in 7 weddings in my adult life, and I didn't remember having to send an RSVP to them before, but the others had always been near where I lived. This one was out in Cedar Rapids Iowa. About 3 weeks before the wedding, the major flooding hit the city of Cedar Rapids, 1300 square blocks ended up under water. 9.something square miles, all of the homes, businesses, churches, all of it underwater. My friend took me downtown to see some of the damage and run errands for the wedding. There were single story houses which didn't look too bad, and when I said that my friend pointed out the water line. You couldn't see the water line on the single story homes but you could on the 2 story homes. The water was above the roof peaks of the single story homes. That put a little dent into my reality, being born and raised on the left coast all I had seen was the devastation caused by mud slides of the early 80's, the earthquakes and the fires. All of these except the fires happen in an instant, you don't see them coming. I couldn't fathom the thought of watching your house being slowly devoured over 3 days by the local river.

As we drove on I started noticing the large red X's on the doors of the houses. Like any inquisitive kid, I asked, what's the X's for. That means that the houses are condemned. We drove through block after block of red X's, and in front of the houses with the red X's were piles of stuff. People's stuff, people's lives, everything that they had, everything that they collected, passed down from father to son, from mother to daughter, everything that their kids made for them at school, all of it put out onto the street side, as so much as refuse... That really puts things into perspective, if you only had 15 minutes to get out, what would you grab? Would you grab the jewelry and leave the cats? Would you grab the pictures and leave the jewelry?

Driving farther down the street, we came to the "downtown" area, it was eerie, quiet, no hustle and bustle. Buildings were boarded up, glass was broken, inventory was out on the sidewalk waiting to be picked up and junked. Then I saw it, a sign spray painted on the plywood covering some windows:

"Bent but not broken"
"We Survive"

Then I started seeing the people who I had been missing before, they were all banding together, working to put their community back the way it was, or better.

I asked my friend, what about looters? Thinking of the 2005 tragedy with Katrina. Not one instance of looting, not one case of vandalism, and one of the local home improvement stores, Menard's, sold the shipment of generators that they just got in for cost. $500 instead of the $2500 that they usually go for. How is it that catastrophic failure, or natural disaster brings out the best in people?

Well, after all of that, the wedding was moved twice, the first place was a park which was destroyed next to the river. The other place had become the make shift shelter for people displaced, and the final place became the garden of Eden because so many people came together to help them pull the wedding together that the hall transformed almost effortlessly. The wedding was beautiful, the bride was blushing and the groom made sure that she knew that he wasn't going any where, she was afraid that he was going to bolt before the wedding.

Oh yeah, Nirvana, I like Kurt Cobain... to a point, my friend is a true fan of Nirvana, to the point where he had the last Rolling Stone cover of Kurt Cobain tattooed to his back and the dvd choices? You could watch Nirvana, or Nirvana, or Nirvana unplugged 1 or 2, then there was the other Nirvana dvd. And if it wasn't Nirvana you ask? Then it was a game of the Hobbit on the Playstation 2... I love my friends, but I had to come home early... and of course I get yelled at when I come through the bedroom door. I guess the damn cats were playing kitty-pult against the bedroom door to force it open so that they could sneak in. I caught it from Mie, but then she figured out that I wasn't a figment and fell back to bed.. :)

How tough is it?

I read this morning that stars are going to rehab like normal people go to lunch. How tough is it to be a star? To have people give you a bunch of money to do some thing that is a god given talent? Amy Winehouse, there's a train wreck, I love her music, but she seems to suck as a person. The Spear's? Brittney or Jamie Lynn? Are they really that special or is it our morbid curiosity that keeps they're 15 minute clock stuck on 5 minutes? Is the pressures of being borderline mediocre really so great that they have to be self destructive or to disappoint millions of people with teen pregnancy? One thing that might be a plus from that whole fiasco is the whole issue of teen pregnancy coming out into the mainstream so that parents who normally wouldn't be brave enough to broach the subject, now have a platform to launch that discussion.

How about Robert Downey Jr, Mie's favorite actor, I happen to think that he's hugely talented, but he, like Amy Winehouse, seems to suck as a person. Why is he so well liked? Is it because he's a potential train wreck waiting to happen? Then there's the poor souls who don't make it, case in point, Heath Ledger, River Phoenix, John Belushi, Tupac, Biggie, Kurt Cobain, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Randy Rhodes just to name a few. Yeah Kurt decided to take his own life and Tupac and Biggie were gunned down, but they changed the face of music for which Mie missed most of that. Is the stress of being young, rich and famous really that tough?

It gets so bad at times that there's a yearly death pool between some people that I know. Which star is going to spiral down into the depths and either off themselves or die from an "accidental" overdose. Are these people who break just broken to begin with or is it really the pressures of having that god given talent or in some cases having been created to appease the need of the broken princes/princess' wanting public?

Hmmm

Stan was a relatively quiet, unassuming database programmer. A little odd to some, overly religious to others. His manager knew that he was going through a bitter divorce, his wife even went so far as to take out a restraining order against Stan, his manager couldn't understand why. In his eyes, Stan couldn't even hurt a fly without having to say a little prayer for it after he hit it lightly with a news paper, hoping not to kill it, but just to stun it so that he could scoop it up and put it outside.

Stan would come into work after taking the train in from his little unassuming home just about 25 miles from work, up in the "sticks" as the people from downtown would call it. He would walk briskly, head down and counting the sidewalk squares as he went. Everyday he would get to his desk, open the bag that held his lunch, and everyday he would pull out an apple and 2 bananas, then put the rest of what was in the bag into the little refrigerator under his desk. He would work his 9.5 hours, pack up his stuff and prepare to make the trek back to the train and his 25 mile ride to the station where he would walk home, head down and counting the sidewalk squares back home, breathing a sigh of relief knowing that the number didn't change between going to work and coming home.

He'd grab the mail from the mailbox outside at the sidewalk, walk up the walkway to the stoop in front of his 1920's house that was left to him and his twin brother after his parents passed away 10 years ago. Stan's brother didn't live with him, this was the house where Stan and Linda lived for the 8 years of their marriage.

Stan put the key in the door, and after taking a quick look behind him, he opened the door and entered his house. The hardwood floors and wood work on the walls of the entry way made the house dark, but that's alright, Stan prefers the dark anyway. The house was immaculately kept. "A place for everything and everything in it's place" Was his mother's mantra. Every time he thought about the time he was blamed for his twin leaving the toy car out, his skin burned with the scars he received from the wire coat hanger across his back, only imaginary now, but still just as painful.

Stan wound his way through the house, past the craftsman style woodwork, over the pristine hardwood floors, past room after room of antiques, past the grandfather clock which chimed on the hour and on the 1/2 hour. Past the living room, where he wasn't allowed to go as a child, past the stairs that led up to the bedrooms, where he first made love to Linda as Husband and Wife, where their son had slept, and was eventually found dead. A horrible occurrence of Sudden Infants Death Syndrome, was found to be the cause. Stan and Linda never recovered, and that's when they slowly slipped into guilt, blame and eventually numbness towards each other.

Stan worked his way into the kitchen, the room was good sized, built for entertaining, but in the corner was a little table now where Stan ate his meals, now that Linda left. An incandescent bulb over the table was the only light that Stan liked using any more, it was comforting without being overwhelming. He went to refrigerator and pulled out a premade meal, put it into the microwave and set the timer. As he waited for the meal to finish cooking, he eyed the piece of paper on the table, one that had been crumpled, flattened out, folded and unfolded so often that you wouldn't think that it had come him only 2 weeks ago. When the microwave dinged to let him know that the contents were done, he pulled them out of the microwave, grabbed a fork, a glass of water and his book, then went to sit at the table.

He said a prayer for the people who had worked hard to supply his food, he prayed for the people that he works with and then he ate his chicken and rice, plain, and drank his water while reading his bible. He read passages about love and forgiveness, he read passages which he felt would enlighten and empower him. Lord knows that he needed that these days. He couldn't keep the piece of paper on the table out of his sight, he folded it again, no use, he tucked it behind the plastic flowers in the vase on the table, still no good. He pulled it out and skimmed over it again. After skimming over it a few more times, he folded it up again and put it into his shirt pocket. He finished his meal, walked it over to the sink and washed off the plate and fork, put them in the dish drainer. The dishwasher was a luxury reserved for more than 1.

After wiping down the table, Stan walked over to the drawer, opened it, and pulled out a shiny handgun. It was one that Stan's brother had given him for home defense. He showed Stan how to load it, how to hold it, how to take off the safety. If Stan didn't have his brother, he wouldn't have anything right now. Stan took a set of keys out of his pocket, put one of the old style keys in a door lock in a door under the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. Turned the lock and let it click before turning the door knob. He opened the door, pulled the string to turn on the light at the top of the stairs, and started to descend the basement stairs.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned, the basement was dark and dank. Dirt from the 80 plus years was the only thing in the house that seemed out of place. Stan walked to the center of the room, found the pull string to the light in the center of the room. With the pull of the string, the light clicked to life. With the light came a startled whisper. In the center of the room stood a cage only a 5' cube, metal tubes for bars, and in the cage was a woman. The woman, beautiful at one time, now bruised and bloodied, her hair strewn around the cage cut off in a fit of rage on Stan's part. Stan pulled from his pocket the piece of paper, grabbed the woman by the hair and wrenched her head back towards him, the only thing stopping her from going any further was the bars of the cage. His teeth in a feral sneer, he got down to her level, "I can't believe that you thought that a fucking piece of paper could protect you" spittle flying from his lips as he said this. Just for emphasis, he pushed her head forward and then back again into the bars. Linda whimpered, as another drip of blood fell from just behind her ear. "I should just kill you now Linda, just like you killed our son" He said, his voice reaching a fevered high at the last part of his sentence.

"I didn't do anything Stan... it was an accident... it was an accident..." her voice trailing off into a sob. "BULLSHIT!! You killed him, God wouldn't take such a beautiful creature from us... FROM ME!!"

Linda, in the moment of realization she was not going to live, spat back "FROM US! You're such an asshole Stan, just kill me and get it over with, That's what you want isn't it? To punish me for Lee's death, well just do it and get it over with you selfish FUCK!" She spat at him and he was taken aback if only for a moment. "Just remember, when you do kill me, they'll find you and put you away for the rest of your miserable little life, so just fucking do it so that I can go see your precious God and tell him what a miserable little prick you are". Linda wiped away a tear which was a mixture of blood, dirt and long repressed anger and sadness.

Stan stood back, cocked the gun that he had with him, Linda heard this noise before, "I hope you're happy being gang raped by all the guys in prison you little prick" She said to him, with that, he grabbed a handful of hair again and told her that he was not going to prison. She just laughed at him now, she had struck a chord with him and all she could do was laugh at him, she knew that her life was over, and in her final moments she was able to take comfort in knowing that he'll be going to hell twice for what he's done to her. Once to the prison yards to become someone's bitch, and when he finally suffered enough in this life, he'll spend eternity being tortured. Stan couldn't be taken to prison and the full impact of realization hit him, he wouldn't survive, not without his brother there. Frantically he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He took his handgun and pointed it at Linda. "Go ahead you fuck, just kill me and get it over with, better yet, why don't you just do us all a favor and blow your own Goddamn brains out, oh that's right, you can't because that's just as much of a sin as killing me, you're fucked buddy... good luck in hell"

This last phrase cut through Stan like a knife, he had to do something, he prayed "Praying isn't going to help you" Linda retorted. Stan reached through the bars again towards Linda, except this time he didn't grab at her. He had pushed the gun through, she took it tentatively, was this some kind of trick.

"You're going to have to kill me" he told her
"No" she looked at the gun repulsed and confused.
Pacing back and forth in front of the cage, "You have to do it, if you want to get out of this, you have to kill me"
"What?!?!"
Holding up a ring of keys he told her "These are the keys to your cage, if you want to get out of this alive, pull the trigger"
"NO" holding the gun now as if cradling a newborn.
"DO IT!"
With that Stan reached through the cage, who did this bitch think she was to defy him like that, in his house at that... He grabbed for the gun, she brought it up and fired, one shot through the upper lip and out the back of Stan's head. He was still conscience as he stumbled back away from the cage, dropping the keys at the door. A rasping sound came from him as he fell back away from the cage. He landed flat onto his back, change and other things clanking in his pocket as he hit the floor, his head now lying in a pool of blood.

Linda sat shaking, the smoking handgun and spray of blood brought her back to reality, she slowly reached for the ring of keys on the floor in front of her. She looked at all of the keys on the key ring, they all looked ancient, not like the brand new lock on the cage....


***************

Now before anyone lambastes me for this, I had this story from about 18 years ago. There was a picture in the news paper with the title "Tell us what this means" There was a picture of a man, a woman in a cage, a jester skeleton and something else, not sure what it was right now though. The above story was what I immediately thought of.

Larry

Hi again everyone

I would like to introduce you to someone who is not only very cool, but well known within car circles, but not much further, even though people who aren't car fanatics almost always appreciate him and his endeavors.




His name is Larry Shinoda, he was born in Southern California in 1930, he was an talented artist who honed his artistic talents during grade school. During World War II, Larry and his family were held in an internment camp for Japanese Americans. As a young man, he built hot rods and raced them on the streets of Los Angeles, he eventually went to work for Ford Motor Company in 1955 after being kicked out of the Art Center College of Design in Los Angles for being in Larry's words "a malcontent".

He stayed at Ford for one year, then moved to Packard in January of 1956. During his time with Packard, things were slow and the company was in financial trouble. Larry took a leave from the company and went to Indianapolis and worked on the car that won the Indy 500 that year driven by Pat Flaherty, a Watson built car, but styled by Larry. In September of 1956, he went to work for General Motors. Larry worked a little on the SS racer, mostly details, but when Bill Mitchell purchased the SS mule chassis from GM, Larry went to work in Mitchell's basement, refining the design of the clay model into what would become the 1959 Sting Ray sports racer. Because GM had banned racing, the Sting Ray did not say Corvette anywhere on the vehicle. Larry was mechanic, pit crew, designer and what ever else was required on the car. Dr. Dick Thompson drove the Sting Ray racer. The Sting Ray Racer was the foundation for the 1963 Shinoda designed Corvette Sting Ray.



Now, I know what you're thinking, "But MM, how could you? Talking about Chevy's and Corvettes when you're suppose to be a die hard Mustang fanatic" Well gentle reader, please bear with me, I'll get to my point...

At around the same time that Chevy was introducing the Shinoda designed Sting Ray Corvette, Ford's general manager, Lee Iacocca, envisioned a small sports car to replace the full sized muscle cars of the era. Originally named after the P-51 Mustang fighter plane, the Ford Mustang (pony car) was a success from the very beginning. Five years later, noted automobile designer, Larry Shinoda (who had designed the Z28 Camaro, '63 Corvette Stingray), introduced the original Boss 302 and Boss 429 Mustangs. Bursting onto the racing scene in 1969'-70', they were the car to beat. Winning both NHRA drag racing events and SCCA Trans-Am championships, the Boss Mustangs are some of the most recognizable Mustangs of all time.





Larry passed away at his home on November 13, 1997 of Heart failure. Larry had just passed the final tissue-match test for his kidney transplant the day before he died.

Larry Shinoda was not only responsible solely or in part for the 1963 Split window Sting Ray, the Z/28 Camaro, the Boss 302 and Boss 429 (Both the originals and the newer 1994 models), he was also responsible for the Ford Torino 428 and numerous other projects. This is a man who shaped an era of "Muscle" for cars, helping to take us from the mundane to the insane in some cases. If I had a cup to raise, I would raise it to Larry Shinoda.

Your Score: Owl

You scored 17 Ego, 7 Anxiety, and 11 Agency!

"Correct me if I am wrong," he said, "but am I right in
supposing that it is a very Blusterous day outside?"

"Very," said Piglet, who was quietly thawing his ears,
and wishing that he was safely back in his own house.

"I thought so," said O-wl. "It was on just such a
blusterous day as this that my Uncle Robert, a portrait of whom
you see upon the wall on your right, Piglet, while returning in
the late forenoon from a-- What's that?"

You scored as Owl!

ABOUT OWL: Owl is considered highly educated because he can spell his own name (WOL) and he can even spell Tuesday... although he doesn't always get it right. Owl is a good sort, really, although he can be a bit of a stuffed shirt, and he tends to overlook the smaller details in life - like the fact that his bellpull is actually someone's tail.

WHAT THIS SAYS ABOUT YOU: You are confident and you feel capable of dealing with whatever life throws at you. You know that you can handle just about everything... mostly because you know how to delegate the job of actually handling things to the people around you. You aren't one of those Bisy Backsons, who rush around trying to do everything at once. You prefer to stay at home and reflect on life, rather than go out and live it.

Sometimes, you know, you need to stop waiting for things to come to you and go out and get them. You need to go enjoy the weather, smell the fresh air, and pay attention to the little people in your life. They may not be as great as you... but maybe they could use your help.

Link: The Deep and Meaningful Winnie-The-Pooh Character Test written by wolfcaroling on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test View My Profile(wolfcaroling)

Question.

When did my childhood become politically incorrect?

Remember that restaurant, Sambo's? It had a mascot I think that it was a clown or something. It went under when I was a kid, but I remember the food didn't suck, but it's politically incorrect to say that now, and with good reason.

What about Cookie Monster? Yeah that's right "C is for cookie", now apparently called Carrot Monster and the cookies are a "sometimes" food. What?

How about the ambiguously gay duo, Bert and Ernie? Do they have Oscar on Ritalin? How about the Snuffle-ufagus? Is he on a "Eating plan" so that he's not so big any more or is it a Thyroid issue?

What about Barbie? They had to change her dimensions so that people wouldn't get the wrong idea about what a woman's body should look like. Why? It's a doll, you don't see boys going out and shooting steriods to look like He-Man or trying to turn themselves into a cat (well there are a couple of nut cases out there that tried, but the majority of people out there, don't) What about the Bratz dolls, don't they have huge heads? Why aren't they being changed?

What about those cap guns? They were toys, we knew they were toys, why are they now so hard to find? I was taught that you don't point them at people, they were just a really cool looking noise maker. I lost mine before I was a teen and before I figured out that girls didn't have cooties. I'm well adjusted, I'm not out killing people because I played with cap guns as a kid. I understand that some people don't want their kids to play with the cap guns, and that's fine they don't have to buy their kids cap guns, but have you ever gone into a toy store? They're no where to be found. You have to go to a Sporting goods store to find anything that resembles the toys I could get at the local 7-11 for a buck.

We're getting to the point where the majority is afraid to speak up against something because it wouldn't be PC, you know what? Fuck that... There was a picture of a woman in a local paper, flag flying behind her, arms crossed like she had just saved the world from impending doom, maybe saved a family of invalids who were blind from a burning house. The article went on to tell about how she singlehandedly stopped a "Box Store" from putting a store in her area. Are you serious? 1 woman stopped a "Box Store" from creating jobs, not only in the store personnel, but also in the building of the store and stopped the city from being able to generate revenue from taxes in the area from that store? The thing that killed me, why am I so against 1 voice? Because people quoted in the article were saying "We could have used that store here"... Then why didn't you all speak up?

Mel Brooks? Don't even think about making any of his movies now, some of his movies are hilarious, others I could live without, but you know what? With all this PC/BS around, no one's going to be able to get the chance. People are afraid to take chances because of the PC/BS, they're AFRAID...

That's scary.

"Tank chew, how may I be helping chew?"

Here's a conversation I've been having with "Tech Support" for a large company which had the distinction of having the computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey named after it, HAL . I had a system go belly up, so I took the proper file captures and had them all ready to go to HAL, when I call in and get a nice young lady on the other line asking me about which system and O/S and all that other fun stuff. That’s when she transferred me to “Steve” who was obviously working with English as his second language and the conversation when something like this:

Steve: Tank chew for calling my nam is <*mechanical prerecorded male voice*>STEVE <*end mechanical prerecorded male voice*>how may I be for helping chew?

MM: Hi, um, Steve.. I have an issue with one of the systems here, it had a *Insert long technical explanation here* and I have already collected the data to be sent.

Steve: Have chew gaddered the core dump?

MM: Yes, I’ve gathered all of the system information and all I need is to send it to you.

S: What about the snap (HAL’s utility)

MM: Yes, I’ve gathered all of the system information and all I need is to send it to you.

S: What about the kernel-

MM: Yes, I’ve gathered all of the system information and all I need is to send it to you.

S: Ok… um… one moment please… *phone drops and sounds like he’s fumbling with the phone*

MM: Steve…. Steve…. Helloooo Steeeeve…

S: *more fumbling with the phone*

MM: Steve…. Steve…. Sanjay…

S: Yes sir?

MM: Where can I send the data too?

S: Yes sir…

MM: Steve?

S: Yes sir?

MM: Where can I send the data too?

S: Yes sir…

*THUD!*

S: Sir? What was that?

MM: Don’t worry Steve, I was just beating my head against my desk..

S: Excuse me sir?

MM: Never mind Steve… Where can I send the data?

S: One moment please sir?

MM: Are you asking me or telling me Steve?

S: Sir?

MM: Never mind Steve… Where can I send the data for you to analyze?

S: Um…

MM: Steve, is your supervisor around?

S: Yes sir.

MM: Can I speak with them? Please?

S: Yes sir, one moment please…

Supervisor: Ello, my name is <*mechanical prerecorded male voice*>Sung<*end mechanical prerecorded male voice*> How can I be assisting chew today?

MM: AURGH!!

This was all followed by a rapid succession of thumping caused from my head hitting my desk over and over again, along with finally getting the location from HAL to put my information at…

Happy Leap Day

Happy Leap Day! (Unless You're in Debt)
This being February 29 — Leap Day — today is costing you an extra day's interest if you're repaying a debt. On the bright side, its earning you a tiny bit more on your bank deposits.
Whom do we have to thank — or curse — for this extra day every four years? Julius Caesar and his lover, Cleopatra.

In 48 B.C., Julius Caesar was in Alexandria, Egypt, absorbing the culture and science — and decadence — of Cleopatra's capital. There he learned from an old sage named Acoreus about Egypt's calendar, which had a leap year.

At the time, the Roman calendar did not. Like most ancient calendars, it was based on the phases of the moon, which in one cycle take about 29.5 days. But 12 months of 29.5 days doesn't equal the true length of the year as measured by the orbit of the Earth around the sun. It's off by 11 days, so anniversaries, holidays, and entire seasons to drift backward on lunar calendars.
The ancient Egyptians had realized this and created a calendar 365??-days long — with the fraction averaged in by adding an extra day every four years.
When Caesar returned to Rome, he created a 365-day calendar with a quadrennial leap year, adding the extra day in February.

A minor hassle for some, perhaps, but certainly better than the alternative faced by the Romans. Back in 45 B.C., for instance, their lunar calendar had drifted backward by 80 days — nearly three months. Spring had become winter, and autumn came in the summer months.
To correct, this Caesar decreed that 45 B.C. would be 445 days long. Think about the extra interest on 80 extra days! No wonder they called it "The Year of Confusion."

by David Ewing Duncan



Another interesting note about Leap Day a friend who was born on Feb 29th told me. If your birthtime is from 00:01 - 11:59 then you celebrate your birthday on Feb 28th and if it falls between 12:00 and 23:59 you celebrate on Mar 1st.

Spring time

Yeah, I know we're in the middle of a false Spring, but days like this remind me of school.

Sitting out on the grass quad area in between classes with friends.
Driving around in my car with Journey playing on the cassette player with the windows down and your shades on.
Yelling out the window of the car to get the attention of the beautiful girls walking down the street.
Kissing my girlfriend out on the bleachers, innocent but yet so exciting.
The smell of the freshly cut soccer fields.
Being able to hang out outside during physical education.
The little dandelion parachutes floating in the air from being launched by the neighbors sprinklers.
Waking up to a warm sun coming into the window and the first birds of the season chirping.
Coming home to see my dad in his old rickety chair leaned up against the opened garage door frame reading his paper, drinking his coffee and enjoying his Camel.
and for some reason, the one that always gets me, is the orange sunset and the long shadows of us as I either played ball or wrenched on cars late into the evening with my friends who I grew up with.


What are some of your memories of spring?

Historical facts

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Of Ghosts, Lottery and Midgets

Today was a good day. It's B-Day+2 and the weather was a beautiful 65 degrees outside. I was contacted by a real estate agent yesterday to go look at places today. Said real estate agent was coming up from the flat lands to Podunk, and with all of the wisdom of the Google Maps, Yahoo! maps, and her Tom-Tom system in her car, she couldn't find the paved roads of Podunk, or more accurately, she found one of only a handful of dirt roads in the area. After successfully navigating the Real Estate Agent back onto the paved roads of Podunk, we set off to see the 2 houses that I wanted to see. 1 was a pretty nice place, had a little creek that ran through the front of the property, a nice terraced back yard, mature trees, and a generally good feeling throughout the house.

The second house was a totally different story. The house is nice, it's relatively large at 1800 sqft and no outwardly glaring problems with it, until you actually set foot inside the house. It was cold, ok that can be excused with it being Feb and it's been somewhat cold at night, but it was a cold that cut to the bone. MG and Mie told me shortly after going into the house that it felt like someone or something was watching them. Even though the only people in the house were the 3 of us and the R.E.A.. Everyone took a turn going down stairs and saying that the room down there felt "weird". I was in the garage and the only thing that I could think of while down there was that seeing as how there was no door except for the large garage door, that if there was a fire or something of that nature down there, that you'd be trapped. That's the second time that I've been to this house and it's the second time that I had that trapped feeling. I'm not claustrophobic or all that paranoid in everyday life, just in that house. So that one is a definite NOOoooooo! Come to find out from the R.E.A. that the house has been on the market 351 days, and has been in and fallen out of escrow at least 7 different times. It's an old town and there's bound to be ghosts in houses, real or imaginary, but this one is baaaaad juju..

We then went to lunch and generally poked around thinking and talking about the houses and what we would do with $150 Million. Of course everyone in our families would get a house, all the kids would get a full ride scholarship and a family business would be created to help people out who are in dire need of assistance. I was thinking a good thing would be to have something similar to the Habitat for Humanity, except take a bank owned piece of property which is in need of repair and take a family who is out on the streets and who is really in need of a place that they can feel safe or at least have a roof over their heads for their kids and themselves, then have them renovate the house so that they can have a place to live and gain skills that they can use in the real world. Or something of that nature...

Anyway, that led us to the local supermarket, where we picked up the parts to make dinner tonight, fish, rice, some nice mangoes and juices, we were done with out little excursion, so we got in line to check out. I started putting the stuff up onto the conveyor belt, and took little notice to the Little Person in front of me. She was there with her mom or her sugar momma, and had just helped her put the items from her cart onto the belt, after the guy rang up the last of the items, she turned and shot me one of the dirtiest looks I had ever received outside of marriage. She puffed up, showed me a bag with 1 head of cabbage in it and then turned to give it to the cashier. I'm not sure what I did to piss this little woman off, but if it was that bad, she could go get a step stool and kiss my butt. Who does she think she is puffing up on me? I had half a mind to have MG go kick her ass, but those of me who know me, know that I was thinking that this whole thing was just too funny, bordering on the surreal to do that.

So here's to the Ghosts of the houses we visit, the hopes of lotteries won and to the Spunky Midget with a bad attitude... Happy Sunday... :)

Interesting print

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Obits

Mie and I were talking last night, again about pretty much anything that our minds clasped onto in our Looney-verse. Last night was a little different, she told me about a little old lady she met at the market. This little old lady was perplexed by all the different types of pears that there were, and told Mie about having never tried anything but 1 kind.

That led, very dog legged, to what would your obituary say about you and the life you lead? I'm sure that the little old lady may have absolutely adored her husband, her family, her kids, grandkids and very possibly great grandkids, but what if the most adventurous thing that she did in her life was to try a new type of pear, would that lead to each of us saying "What a shame, she never really lived" or would we be saying "She lead a very long, fulfilled life"?

Are you living up to your potential? Are you doing all that your heart desires? Are you full of joy in your daily life? Are you fulfilled in your life? Very bluntly, are you happy? Not the smiling like a goon on the bus stop bench who looks like he needs to be put away, but are you truly happy? Do you feel good about what you've done, where you're life is going and do you look forward to tomorrow? Some might say "Well I'm not rich, I don't have the (fill in the blank) that I've always wanted" But that's not what I'm asking. Are you happy? Do you feel fulfilled? Do you do whatever you can to make your day brighter and are you making attempts to help others have a brighter day too? "Are you living a life worthy of who you are?"*

I ask people around me on a regular basis, "What made you smile today?" or "What was your highlight of the day?" You'll be surprised how much of a difference that can make in a persons day, that gets them to thinking about the better parts of their day. It's phenomenal to think that they have to stop to think about the best part of their day and then they go from Funk to a smile and they keep that smile there until you leave.

What is your obituary going to tell the world about you?

*Quote borrowed from James Ray

Heroes

Summer of 2006 was a rather interesting time for me. I was single, learning how to deal with my wandering spirit without picking up and moving to the East coast. I've always lived near the ocean or another large body of water, except when I was in Denver or Phoenix. So it was only natural that I migrate towards the coast again for my own mental and emotional health, to center myself in certain ways. After watching the Hitchcock classic "The Birds" and realizing finally after having seen it for the umpteenth million time, that it was filmed in the cities of Bodega and Bodega Bay. It was a natural choice to start the centering of myself, so I picked up and headed to the coast. I did this for nearly 2 full months of weekends, it wasn't until probably the 3rd or 4th trip to the coast that I came across a little turn out that had a couple of cars in it.

I decided to stop to see what it was all about, it was a nice warm day with a light breeze coming from the sea, the salt in the air always a welcome scent. The grasses were golden, and the sun was near the horizon, but still allowed for an hour or so of day light. I found the dirt path that slowly turned into sand, on this path there was a stone monument with a brass plaque on it, with flowers, toys and all sort of gifts setting on and around it. I stopped to read and found out that this was a monument dedicated to Nicholas Green of Bodega Bay, for those of you who don't recognize his name, he was the 7 year old boy who was shot by highway robbers in Messina Italy, he died a couple days later from his injuries, and his parents Reg and Maggie decided to donate his organs. This was nearly unheard of in Italy at the time, and I remember how much of an impact this made to the people in Europe, especially to the 2 people who gained eyesight, and the 5 who gained a new lease on life, 4 of which were teenagers. The Italians were astounded that this family who had just lost their 7 year old son to robbers in their country and would be willing to donate his organs so that others might live, that the country opened it's heart to the family raising donations for the family.

In the wake of the events, the Greens have done a tremendous amount of work to raise awareness for organ donations, writing books and articles, made a video, gave interviews, answered letters and started a group called The Nicholas Green foundation . Today the foundation gives out their Nicholas Green Distinguished student award to 1 student from each state, they also award 1 Italian doctor a grant to come to the states to study the most advanced organ transplant techniques.

I digress though.

The plaque went on to tell of The Children's Bell Tower, the tower was built in 1995 by artist Bruce Hasson, this monument is about 18' tall, consists of 3 towers stacked on each other, and has 140 bells which were gathered from all over Italy, some of which are over 100 years old. These bells were donated from schools, churches, mines, ships, and some were even family keepsakes. There's even 1 cowbell. Some were forged specifically for this monument, the largest and most prominent being a 30" bell which was forged by the Marinelli foundry which has been forging Papal bells for nearly 1000 years now. Nicholas' name is on this bell, as well as the 7 people who received the transplants and Pope John Paul II blessed the bell before it was shipped to California.

This just absolutely blew me away when I saw it. The bells sing when the wind blows and you can hear them from the parking lot on a nice quiet day with the nice summer breeze blowing. This is a very powerful monument, it's amazing that one act of selfishness cowardice on the robbers part could lead to a moving experience for an entire country if not the whole world. So my question is this, who are the heroes?

Phenomenons

So Mie and I were watching the God box last night and we came across a program which was about the North American "Upright Hairy Creatures". That led to a rather interesting conversation which covered everything from the North American Upright Hairy Creatures, which by the way looks allot like a werewolf to UFOs.

We postulated about the origins of these Upright Hairy Creatures, could they be part of some sort of genome splicing project testing? Creating some sort of super wolf that our government will use to hunt down people who they're looking for in wilderness areas? Some sort of super weapon which can communicate through speech and take orders like a soldier? These things have been seen through out the wilds of Wisconsin, not so much in Northern Illinois, I guess these Upright Hairy Creatures aren't that much into corn.

Then there were other sightings of larger Upright Hairy Creatures which look more like giant ape people. Could these Upright Hairy Ape People be another genome splicing project which was created to police the other Upright Hairy Creatures which are more werewolf like. Which in itself is scary because they're making a policing force of Sasquatches.

Then they covered UFOs and Ufologists (yes, that's an actual science). I was telling Mie that there is no such thing as UFOs, she asked how I came to that conclusion. I told her that since 1947 at the Roswell NM crash site, they were no longer Unidentified, that the powers that be now knew what they were and where they were from. So when the government tells you that there is no such thing as a UFO, they're telling you the truth. I do believe that there is intelligent life outside of our solar system. It would be kind of silly, in my opinion, to know for a fact that there are other Earth-class planets or for those Trekkie's out there M-class planets and there not be any intelligent life forms of one form or another. I have a friend of mine who even stated that if it's not an alien race, it could very well be us from the future coming back into time to tell us that we're fucking it up, stop fucking it up. That they're tired of dealing with the ramifications of the crap that we are doing to our planet right now. Which makes a certain amount of sense.

So whether it's Upright Hairy Creatures which look like wolves, apes or just plain old Sasquatches, or Aliens from another planet or another time, I don't think that we've discovered all there is to discover about this planet and all of it's fun little nooks and crannies.

In conclusion, we finished our night watching about real Fight Clubs, when she promptly turned to me and asked if I would be interested in something like that. It sounds interesting, but no... Something about being beaten with a 30 oz stick repeatedly sounds about as appealing as being woken up by someone beating me in the crotch with a toaster.

Been tagged

I've been tagged (by Sybil sorry Mie)and cataloged, with any luck I'll be released back into the wild. So what am I suppose to do here? Go through each of the traits for my month? ok, let's see what I've got:

FEBRUARY:
Abstract thoughts= Here is an abstract thought, Fred Durst and Limp Biz-quick singing a George Michael's song "Faith"... I still think that he needs to have his head shoved into a pool of liquid poop. Is that an abstract thought or are we thinking along the lines of Salvador Dali or would that be more along the line of Surrealism?

Loves reality and abstract. HAHAHA!! I live in the land of Denial, somewhere in the state of Confusion, on Tequila Gum drop lane.

Intelligent and clever, yes I am, but shhhh! Don't tell anyone, or my job as a computer janitor would be in jeopardy

Changing personality... What? Like a chameleon? OoOoooh, I can be like that guy on Pretender, I could be a doctor one day, then a race car driver the next day. That would be cool... :)

Attractive~ If I could do a smiley face with the screwed up concentration look, then I would. I would have to venture a guess and say that's a definite maybe, I mean, Mie puts up with me, so I can't be that horribly disfigured, which leads into the next question...

Sexy, I'm as sexy as anyone can be with a 3rd arm jutting out of the back of their head can be.. You should see how I can scratch the glutes... That's right Bay-by.

Temperamental- Oh yeah, I'm angry all the time. grr..

Quiet, shy and humble- Without a doubt, I have a hard time opening up and letting people in. (honest)

Honest and loyal-- Absolutely, without question. I would help any of my friends with what ever they need, except with the whole hiding the bodies, I can't do that... well maybe, if they really deserved it.

Determined to reach goals Well DUH!! You don't make it to co-assistant head janitorial engineer in training without being determined. But on a different note if you're passionate enough about something, when you hit a roadblock you will find a way to go through, over, under or around it, and yes there are plenty of goals which I would do any of those things to achieve them.

Loves freedom // yes... can't live with boundaries, well I can, but not for long.

Rebellious when restricted \\ I'm rebellious when I'm not restricted too, just ask Mie about the glass doors at the restaurant.

Loves aggressiveness ~ There is a time and place for aggressiveness, like when some dork fish is trying to take the last Twinkies off of the store shelf, in that case that bastard is going down. Or when it comes to knowing what is the best course for something that is important to you and your family and putting it into play.

Too sensitive and easily hurt !~! I AM NOT!! WHO TOLD YOU THAT?!?! I HATE THEM.*sob*.. no not really, I don't get butt hurt about things too easily.

Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Only when MG is in the car do I hold back any sign of anger, other than that let the obscenities fly while driving and when I'm angry, you'll know it.

Dislikes unnecessary things. 3 words Jeet Kune Do. Bruce Lee's martial art, which strips away all the unnecessary and unneeded movement from other martial arts, I think that most things can benefit from removing the unnecessary things, trimming the fat, making things more efficient.

Loves making friends but rarely shows it. This I do agree with, I like meeting new people, I don't know how you show you like making friends though, so that part is a little confusing. : \

Daring and stubborn -0- Stubborn without any question, daring though is another thing, I can't think of anything more daring than driving through a blizzard in near white out conditions going down hill to work at 5 in the morning, but that's a daily thing lately. Maybe ordering puffer fish sushi made by a sushi apprentice, is that daring?

Ambitious. Yes, I want it all and will soon rule the world MUAHAHAHA!!!

Realizes dreams and hopes (-) On occasion, it all goes back to that passion thing, if you have passion about something you'll realize dreams and hopes come hell or high water.

Sharp, Dull as a crayon used by a 3 year old pressing down with all their might.

Loves entertainment and leisure @# Who doesn't? Have you ever heard someone say "Science dammit, I have too much entertainment and leisure in my life? F* the peas, I need more strife and stress" I mean, besides the ones who are trying to be starving artists?

Romantic on the inside not outside -- I'm romantic on the outside, just as much as the inside, I've been coined as being addicted to romance. :)

Superstitious and ludicrous... Spiritual, is that different then Superstitious? I don't do any of the "Step on a crack..." stuff, and the only thing ludicrous would be "Barf! Ludicrous Speed" 5 points for who ever tells me where that's from. :)

Spendthrift - Only when it comes to people I care about.

Tries to learn to show emotions _-_ I use to try, but not any more, I just smile a lot now... That's more to keep them guessing than anything else. :)