Of Wove and Mawwage

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For the title: If you have not seen Princess Bride, or if you do not properly appreciate it, you are most definately missing out. There is something incessently heart warming about crazy medicine men who remind you of a sister WHO YOU HAPPEN TO SHARE A HOUSE WITH. Or would that be, with who you share a house? Anyway. Moving right along.

Am I missing something? I seem to be surrounded with people who find rushing to the alter a sweet and divine salvation from, well, something. Are they running? Or rushing into the arms of comfort? THESE ARE PEOPLE MY AGE! WHAT IS THEIR MAJOR MALFUNCION? Did their mothers neglect to warn them that boys are messy, smelly creatures WITH COOTIES?

Problem being, most of these young people come screaming away from their matrimonial bliss a few shorts months later. Apparently, it isn't so blissful at all. Seems The Marriage Bed has developed a bad case of sand fleas. Maybe because was homeschooled, thus, forced to live many people within confines for the formative years of my life, but the thought of having to LIVE WITH SOMEONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE is very grave indeed. Hence the reason my list of friends does not include cats, people whose life calling involves large amounts of canola oil or most of the world in general.

Maybe I am gunshy. But, people, when most of the world is shooting their fingers off, or other necessary body parts, CONSIDER CAREFULLY BEFORE PULLING THE TRIGGER.

Damned trigger happy monkeys.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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