There's this thing called privacy

Stolen from a friend via her website.
Tru dat.

Well.

The stuff I put on here is completely anonymous. For the most part the people that read this do not know me at all.

There are very few people from my "real" life who I even let read this stuff.

I truly write this here bloggity because it's cathartic for me. I feel better when I can get this stuff out of my cranium and onto this here screen.

I'm sitting in my living room, looking out onto my pretty back yard and deck and the Tibetan Prayer flags gently waving in the wind.

In the front yard is a blue spruce that my neighbor cut down and gave to us for Christmas. It's still decorated with cute bulbs and a garland made of oyster shells from Africa. Also has some paper ribbon of red and purple in it.

Whether or not you believe in this kind of stuff, I feel protected by the trees and the birds and the little voles and mices that are living in my yard. My Beebles also protects me. She's very alert, and, as my Mom used to say, "The world needs more Lerts!"

My parents didn't raise me in a traditional way - I mean they were pretty traditional when you get down to the WASPy roots I enjoy, but my parents were always the spectacular people in the room. The people that threw the big parties that everyone wanted to attend.

I remember having the group, "Hot Chocolate" in my house for their big Gold Record party celebration. The DJ that was my Dad's co-worker, Phil Orth, or "Orth from the North" - was the first to release their song "You Sexy Thing" so he was being celebrated along with the band.

That's not your typical childhood memory. Or at least I thought so.

Turns out that there are a lot of people with famous connections, because "celebrities" are just people. They grew up just the same as you and I did! They have families, friends, co-workers from the past and present! Just people.

So, I used to watch award shows and criticize (and also celebrate) what the pretty people were wearing. I was harsh sometimes. Now I feel bad about that. What if you went to some fancy affair and then the next day there are hundreds of sites on the internet declaring you the "Worst Dressed" in all of the land?

I'd HATE that!

Living in Alaska, I feel a bit like that. Because I'm from Massachusetts, I'm labeled as weird, liberal and naive.

???

Really, now? So, the degrees I've earned and the whole Phi Beta Kappa thing?

Oh, right. You would know about PBK because you think it's some special brand of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

Dumb sh*ts.

Honestly.

Yes. I have blonde hair. Blue eyes. Yes, I'm in good shape (thank you) again.

I lost weight. Not my brain.

So, again. I beg of you. Please stop with the bashing of men, women or whatever.

JUST BE NICE.

My Mom and Dad taught me the old maxim:

If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.

I realize I'm a bit of a hypocrite when I say that and then call certain people dumb sh*ts. However, if you pick on me, over and over, and you continue to underestimate me, you can't expect me to just sit here and take it.

Gonna go study for the Bar.

You know, not the kind with cocktails, you dumb ****.

Yeesh.

Ciao again for now.