Ah, I realized I have neglected this particular blog.
In doing so, and such is the way of the insomniac, the simple thought turned into a yarn unraveling of 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon proportions. You bet your sweet cheeks I just made some obscure pop culture reference there. HUZZAH!
Initially, I wanted this to be a blog that was public to see. So, that meant I'd have to save my "I'm going to kick XYZ in the genitalia" posts to the bare minimum. However, it is really that hard anymore to not have some sort of transparency? I can go find out about my ancestors. I can get satellite Google images of my house. Junk mail even finds me.
So, I realize perhaps this blog does represent me well. I don't know where the deuce I am most days. It's a hodgepodge of ADHD scale. Overthinking, underknowing. Made up words. Spackle on a stick. Wut?
The point? Being real. I wonder if it's a dying art. As much as I'd love this to be a raining lollipops sort of blog or save you money galore. It's just not going to happen. I will be the scourge in this respect. This is my own amusement, my own twisted mind. Suzie Homemaker and rolling over for husbandly duties is jolly fantastic for some, but I'll pass. There is something self-gratifying about wasting energy, time, and space. We shun those who want for themselves at the same time glorifying materialistic and shallow rewards.
I'm okay with that. Others really should be too. However, be real about. Don't hide behind the plastered smile, the pretty twirly skirt. Own it. Mediocrity and imperfection is a glorious thing.
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