The Nature of the Beast

Isn't it funny that there is an inverse relationship between life activity and blogging activity? I think this creates a skewed view of what bloggers do.

When I am actually busy doing things I have no time for/interest in writing about it. When things are very slow, I love to write about that. And I have time to write a lot about it.

More of this week's realizations (and no comment, please, about any possible lateness of these realizations, nor about how young you were when you realized them):

Breathing is easy to take for granted until it becomes troublesome.

True love is almost always neither.

I like bourbon, especially Southern Comfort. I like it straight from the bottle with a bag of pretzels on the side.

Nothing says "I love you" to a nine year old like a visit to the Build-a-Bear workshop.

If I don't speak up for myself nobody else is going to.

Everyone should sing the Free to Be You and Me soundtrack at least once a week.

Families are almost always less judgmental than you think they're going to be.

I have too many belongings.

The Mall still sucks.

I miss eating Smartfood popcorn.

A good temporary remedy for low self-esteem and life difficulty is a longish car ride with the sing-along soundtrack of Ani Difranco (see also love of bourbon, above).