Sunday, October 28, 2012

The day that I died is the day that you died.

I looked through the pictures stacked on my desk. I stared at the dried wax trail left on this red candle I bought for you. A few words blink across my mind: Spice Girls. Mr. Cardboard man. Germany. Colorado. I'm a burrito. Sleepovers. Macerena. N'Sync. Betty Boop.

Each word brings back a memory. We laughed. We danced. We fought. We watched My Girl together and decided we needed to become blood sisters. A few months ago when we talked, we got to that topic. I admit that it reminded me how special our friendship was that you never did that with anyone else and neither did I.

Tomorrow, it will be two weeks since my world crashed around me. Two weeks since I was singing my heart out to music and feeling pretty content with life. Two weeks since I came across the words, posted to your facebook page, that you were gone.

I cannot tell you how much shock I felt. I was sure it was a sick and twisted attempt at humor. I was sure that someone just wanted a laugh. Then I saw the follow up comment explaining that there had been an accident. The driver never saw you. Your friend was gone. You were gone. Your beautiful baby girl was in the hospital with a skull fracture.

I went numb. Every muscle in my body stopped working for a moment. Then, my hand went instinctively over my mouth. I heard this heart-wrenching scream and the following sobs exploding from somewhere. I didn't realize until later that they were from me. My hand was still over my mouth, ready to stop the vomit I could feel coming. I ran outside, clutching my phone, trying with fingers that would not work to call your phone.

It had to be someone else. It had to be a mistake. It couldn't be you. It just couldn't be you. I waited, holding my mouth shut tight, refusing to let the bile escape. I would hear your voice. Everything would be okay. I would cry and cry and tell you how much I love you and how I was so glad I could tell you that again. It would be wrong.

I waited. My chest was tight and I pressed the send button and waited. It immediately gave me an unavailable message. No voicemail. No snippet of your voice to reassure me. I knew. I don't know how but I knew. It was true.

For a moment, nothing happened. I just sat there, crouched on my knees on the deck, unable to move. Then, it started. I was rocking. Then I was on my hands, heaving and hyperventilating. I thought I would vomit, but it wouldn't come. Just dry heaves and panic in my head. The sobs started again. I couldn't stop them. Another moment of a tortured sound escaping that I couldn't recognize as my own howling as I curled up against the porch.

I don't know how much time went by before I picked up the phone again. I had to call someone. Anyone. I had to know what was going on.

I continued to cry for some time as I moved around doing things I was supposed to do. Through the shock, I still asked Debra if it was true when I called her. I needed someone else to tell me though I already knew by how empty I felt inside. A connection had been severed.

More tears. More phone calls. More curling up alone on the floor. I split into two people that day; two minds in one body.

The first me cries and continues forward. She does her homework. She goes to work. She tries to talk about you. She talks about the good memories to try and ease the ache. She's miserable. She tries to keep on, like everyone else says you would have wanted. Funny how people suddenly think they know how you would have thought, even when they didn't know you.

The second me is still raging inside. She's angry. She's broken. Her world is shattered and she can't put it back together. She is the one that makes my chest so tight. That hasn't lessened. She's the one that I can feel sobbing and heaving when my throat gets suddenly constricted and I feel dizzy. She's the one that can't focus when people talk. She's the one that is staring at some far off memory and is completely outside of reality now.

I spend more time being the second me. The first...she's trying to hold together with little luck. She's the one trying to smile when she looks at Betty Boop pajamas at the store. She's the one that let's out a small, somewhat forced, giggle at the sight of anything with cupcakes on it. She's the one that will remember everything we shared, like a memory keeper.

Second me, though...She knows things will never get better. She knows that this inability to breathe properly will be here for the rest of our life. She knows that the long phone conversations to catch up on each other's lives are over and she holds on tightly to the memory of your voice. She knows that this empty feeling in our chest, this ache, this constant reminder  that you're gone... it's going to sit there for a long time.

My sister died. There are those that use the terms for siblings for everyone that they meet. That's not me. You and I know that more than anyone in our worlds, you and I had each other. There was a connection there that no one could break and we reminded each other of that every time we talked. We have other best friends. We have other people we share our secrets with. We don't have other sisters though. That is a different type of bond.

We are sisters in every sense of the word, except that we have different parents. We can fight tooth and nail, but no one else is allowed to give us shit or hurt us. The other was always there, despite distance, despite busy lives. You were there for me. I was there for you.

We even had a song. It isn't just a song that reminds me of you. It isn't a song we just danced to a few times and remembered nostalgically. It was our song. We sang it to each other when we needed to remember how much support and love we had from the other. It will be our song until the day I die, and we don't need one anymore.

Well, you and I
we're buddies
and we've been since we first met
Me and you, well, we've sure been through
our share of laughter and regret.

Lord knows we've had our bad days
and more than once, we've disagreed
But you've always been a friend to me.

You can be so stubborn.
There's times I think you just like to fight.
And I hope and pray I live to see the day
when you say I might be right.

And there's times I'd rather kill you
than listen to your honesty, 
but you've always been a friend to me.

You've always been
time and again
the one to take my hand
and say to me, that it's okay to be
just the way I am
with no apology.

Well, you've always been,
and you will til God knows when...
Yes, you've always been
A friend to me.

This is all that is left. I remember laughing. I remember crying. I remember fighting. I remember talking to each other in soothing voices.

More than any of the memories, I remember sitting on a rock at the top of the hill, overlooking Colorado Springs. It was behind my house. I remember you having more hope about everything we were going through that seemed so intense at the time. I remember you making me move my butt over so you could sit next to me and we just hugged each other. We looked over the springs and huddled each other against the cold wind. It's the first memory I have of us feeling like we were adults. We weren't, but it was the most adult I had ever felt.

I won't be sharing that memory with anyone. I won't be telling anyone what we were talking about or why. That is just for us.

That is where I'll meet you one day. We'll embrace each other at the top of the hill and sit on the rock. We'll watch until dark so we can see the lights of Colorado Springs come up. We'll walk into those lights together and everything will feel right. You're already in the light, I know it. I can feel it.

I'll be here in the dark until you call me.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Forgiving is truly not forgetting

I wandered into work, like every other night I am scheduled. I left the house at 9:00pm, stopped for food on the way, and made my way to the back to eat, get my things for the night around and check my schedule for the next several hours.
     
I don't always pay attention to anyone around me during this process. It is my routine and other people do not really fit into my thought process until I get to the break room and settle in. I play with my phone, look at the sad selection of books on our book wall just before I pass through the large, grey double doors to the back of the store. 
     
A couple of weeks ago, I had a moment in time during this process that felt as if it lasted for hours rather than seconds. I walked my usual path to the back; in the front door, straight between grocery and cosmetics, around the corner by the pharmacy, past the infant clothes and then I cut over to Electronics, which is right in front of the back room doors. 
     
That day, my mind was acknowledging people. For no other reason than happening to glance up, I made brief eye contact with a guy. He was pulling a pallet, of what I have no idea, past Electronics towards the hardware department. I couldn't tell you what he had on that pallet or if he turned down an aisle or any other detail of anything happening in that vicinity within the next few seconds. Right then, my stomach took a giant leap into my throat and an instant nausea fell over me. My stomach hurt. My chest hurt. My throat was tight and the remainder of my body frozen in place.  I was convinced right then that my ex-husband had transferred stores and was now employed again in the same building as myself.
     
It had been a long time since I had felt that sick to my stomach. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I didn't want to believe he could have just walked by me and destroyed, in that brief few seconds, any semblance of sanity I had gained since the day he stepped out of my life. 
     
After what seemed like hours, I forced my brain to force my legs to move. I walked stiffly towards the doors, pushed through them and found a couple of co-workers and friends. Only a minute or two had gone by.  I was informed by one of these friends that the guy I saw only briefly was not my ex-husband, but a new employee with an uncanny resemblance to him.  This friend saw the look on my face, and having met the guy I saw already, and having known my past, knew exactly what I was thinking. I let a wave of complete relief wash over me and my entire body sighed with exhaustion. Those few minutes wore me out physically and emotionally before I had even clocked in for work. 

While it still throws me off to see this new co-worker making his way through the store, as it does to many of my other co-workers, knowing that the situation is not at all what I thought it was makes my work place feel normal again. My thought process, however, is not. 

Having such an intense reaction to something I thought was far into my past has created a lot of frustrating realizations in my mind. I still feel a range of emotions at the thought or sight of him. I still feel sick at every idea & inkling of him in any place in my life. The strongest sentiment, though, is that, after all of this time, over four long years, and after being convinced in my mind that I had forgiven him, my heart has not. 

I have no desire to go into the explanation of what happened for anyone in my life that did not know me during that time. I don't want to hash through the memories, the feelings, the shock, the pain or any of the rest of it. Mostly, that is because I really don't remember it. I don't remember why I loved him. I can't recall why we ever thought the two of us would work. I have no idea why I married him. My soul has long let go of those things and left them in the past where they belong. My heart, apparently, or perhaps the deepest part of my memory, has not. 

To have such a deeply emotional and physical reaction like that makes me angry. It frustrates and enrages me at myself because I don't want to feel that. I don't want to physically remember anything from that point and time in my life. It's gone. Better things have come into my life and I want to live in my present, thinking about my future. I want my past dead and buried where I left it. 

I am only just beginning to think to myself what any of this means, how I should handle it and what I can do for myself to change these things. I have a lot of emotions churning that I don't know how to sift through and understand. I don't know how to comprehend any of them and how I can let go of them permanently. 

I guess the lesson I can take from this is that you can move on, you can step forward, you can let go of the things that hurt you, the things that rip you apart and the things that leave you feeling weak and less than what you want to be, but you can't erase that the past happened. You can't pretend that your life began years after it did. You can't pretend that you were always the person you are, because behind you, there is a person you were. You can let go of anger and try your best to forgive, but when it comes down to it, you won't forget. 

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Mischief, memories and sentimentality

Every year as my birthday rolls around, the same scenario plays out. I find some book to read, a game to play, a friend to pass the time with until 1:23am arrives on the clock. Birthday wishes and sentiments before that seem strange to me, even though it is technically my birthday as the clock strikes 12am. That's never mattered to me, though. I was born at 1:23am and each and every year, I wish myself a happy birthday at that moment and then, the fun can begin.

I usually spend the time leading up to that point gazing backwards. I think of the path my life has taken. I reflect on every fork that I've come to and which direction I chose to follow. I think of birthdays past and those I spent them with. I imagine my life now and my life before and every decision that lead to every change and every person that's been along for the journey.

Now, don't misunderstand me as I follow this thought train. I wouldn't change the decisions I've made, as each one has lead to the person I am now and I accept that. I can't change those choices even if I wanted to, so it really doesn't matter.

At this time every twelve months, however, I let my mind wander the paths of yesteryear. I like to imagine what my life would be like had some choices been made differently. I ponder what my life would be like now had some friendships not faltered, had some relationships not ended, or if others had begun that never were.

If that one relationship had not forced me to reevaluate my life, would I still have the same wants and needs that I desire in the present?

If that one other relationship had ever turned into one, would we still be together now? Would our friendship have dissolved the same way?

If that one friend hadn't started down the path of adulthood before myself, would we be able to better understand each other now? On the same note, did I really mature faster than that other friend or did I just stop trying to understand too quickly?

Could I have been a better friend? What about a better daughter or granddaughter? Could I have been a better girlfriend?

I don't only question the pieces of my past, though. I also reflect happily on the memories that are still with me even after so many years.

There was that time she and I jumped around in my driveway in the middle of the night in my big orange sleeping bag bellowing, "I'm a burrito! I'm a burrito!"

I remember the year she stole my giant Pixie Stix and I chased her around my living-room. She stumbled around in my pajama pants, which were about four sizes too big.

I still shake my head and smile at the night I climbed through his window so I could sit with him when he was drunk without waking his parents up.

I feel warmed by the memory of standing on his balcony as he hugged me and told me that choosing to live so that someone else wouldn't feel hurt or guilty by the loss of me made me someone with more heart than anyone he'd known.

I remember laughing in my room with fuzzy posters over 'Blue chicken" and "Orange Kitty." Those inside jokes will be remembered forever.

I remember the night he told me that he was glad that I was alive because he didn't know if he would have been without me.

There are days in life that are sad, maddening, exciting, infuriating, frustrating, confusing, wonderful, memorable, terrifying and exhilarating.

There are days, and will be days ahead, when I wonder how things could ever feel good again when they feel so bad. In contrast, there will be days where I will wonder what I ever did for so much happiness to be bestowed upon me and how I could possibly ever feel down again.

To be cliche, life is a journey that no one escapes alive. My game plan? I want to jump into everything that makes me happy with no thought for the consequences. I want to take terrifying risks so I'll never question what would have happened if I had. I want to tell every person that means something to me just how they make me feel. I want to smile with my friends and family, cry with them, laugh with them; I want to inspire people, I want to encourage them and I want to be encouraged and inspired by them.

I've spent twenty-seven years running, stopping, questioning, grieving, appreciating, exploring, admiring, risking, laughing and loving. If I'm lucky, I've only lived a third of the life that I could. I want the chance to do all of that again at least twice more.

Then when the time is done, and I'm hopefully wrinkled and wise, I'll be ready to step into the next great adventure with no regrets, pride in who I was and contentment in all that I accomplished.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Respect...

Relationships, like people, all work very differently from one another. There are so many kinds of relationships with so many ways of, for lack of a better word, 'functioning'

Just to list off a few of those differing relationships to make my point, here goes: Committed heterosexual couples, committed homosexual couples, poly amorous persons, open relationships, open marriages and swingers.

People of all different walks of life have different desires, different needs emotionally, mentally, spiritually and sexually.  Now, what works for one relationship may not work in another. While one couple may prefer to commit entirely to one another, another couple may decide to share their relationship with others.

I do my best not to judge. I would not ask anyone I wasn't dating to adhere to my relationship ideals, nor is anyone asking me to adhere to theirs.

What I will point out is that regardless of the relationship setting to any of these examples, they all tend to have a couple of things in common; Respect, honesty and communication.

Each person involved in any type of relationship will have certain wants and needs in the department of those three characteristics that they'll expect their partner(s) to adhere to. Whatever the rules and functions of that specific relationship, every party involved will want to discuss and come to agreements on if things are going to work.

Having made that point, there is one aspect of any of these that is never okay: Cheating.

My understanding of how open relationships of any sort function is that there is always honesty about what it happening with whom. There is a level of trust there because the lines of communication are kept open. Reaching a point where you're stepping outside of whatever boundaries have been drawn to the relationship is dishonest.

If you're committed emotionally and physically to anybody and you break that bond in any way, you're cheating.

I could sit here and point out that if you're in an open relationship that simply requires that you inform your partner before sleeping with someone else and you choose to engage in acts without communicating that to your partner, you're cheating.

I could point out that when you're committed to more than one person and you're stepping outside the lines with one or both of them to get your jollies, you're cheating.

I could point out that when you have commit yourself to one person in all ways and you decide to step out on them, you're cheating.

What is cheating? Well, for me, it's a complete lack of respect.

At one time, the person or persons you're dating/married to were what you wanted. Their desires were your desires. As anyone that has ever gone through a breakup or divorce will tell you, desires change. People change. What doesn't change, however, is how one should go about taking the next step when they're not happy anymore.

Leave. Leave first. When you realize things aren't running as smoothly and they are not things that can be fixed, take the steps. When you realize the feelings you once felt are not what you feel now, move on. However, have respect.

As I said before, the person that doesn't fit your life anymore was the right piece for a time that is gone. That person once made you smile. They once made you laugh. They once made you feel like all you needed was them.

Respect that and remember it when the time comes to let go... because nothing tramples the good memories more than disgracing them by cheating. It's low-down. It's dirty and it's unfair to the amount of time that person put into you.

Now go forth, ladies and gentleman and think before you act.

Friday, June 15, 2012

A piece of the puzzle

  Every person in this life goes through trials & hardships.
Every person has tried, failed and felt helpless.
Every person has been hurt, crushed and let down.
Every person has felt disappointed, confused and, yes, angry...Even those that hate to admit to negative feelings have felt anger.

   For those that already know me well, you know my 'big let down' story. For those that don't, let me sum it up for you: I was young. I fell in love. We spent our time together. We had trials throughout that time. We got married. Right afterward, he left. We divorced. The End.

That is the simple explanation. For me, it's the only story. I don't look at it any deeper than that, as there doesn't seem to be any need to do that. Sure, there were hurt feelings, a broken heart, a lot of emotions all mingled together in one frustrating ball of mess. I remember the words that described the feelings, however, I can't remember what any of those feelings felt like. I remember that I felt them, but how they felt or why...it's a foggy mystery to me.

For my family & closest friends, it's not that simple.

They saw their daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin and friend get hurt. They saw her heart break. They saw the disbelief, denial, sorrow, anguish, frustration, humiliation, confusion, emptiness, fear, bewilderment, numbness, disappointment & withdrawal. They watched her cry, scream & vomit. They listened to her ask the same question over and over that they had no answer for; Why? They watched her helplessly as she became silent, withdrew from everyone, wallowed and tried to give up.

They held her, listened to her, watched her, supported her and loved her...and the anger stewed.

As I have been told by more & more of my loved ones lately, this seems to be exactly the case. As I healed, overcame, analyzed with a clear head and forgave, their anger continued to simmer and seethe.

I spent much of the last few years trying to urge people not to hate in my name. I don't want anyone to hate for ME...especially when I don't.

I've come to realize though, that I can't ask anyone not to feel as they did. I felt my past as I did, and they feel as they did and do. They have their memory of everything and I have mine.

My reason for explaining all of this has to do with a few points I wanted to get across;

One; You cannot ask anyone to change how they feel when it comes to you. When someone loves you, and you get hurt or disappointed, it's their natural response to feel protective. When someone loves you, they see you at your most vulnerable and it's their natural response to shield you in those moments.

I don't want anyone to hate for me, but I don't think that is exactly the case here; I think their anger and hate towards him is truly a fierce and loyal love towards me. I like how that feels far more than hate.

Two; I don't hate him. For one thing, I don't know the person that he is now. He is virtually a stranger to me and I have no hate for someone I do not know.  For another, the girl that I was at nineteen will always love the boy he was at nineteen.

It is my very firm belief that he came into my life at a time when he was meant to come into it. What he provided my life with (lessons and experiences that I prefer to keep to myself) were all necessary.

Every experience in life adds another piece to the puzzle of who you are. He was a piece of mine that had it's place to fit.

I've taken several forks along the path, followed long, got lost a few times but never stepped back. I've continued to go forward and life has taken me a far trip from where I thought I would end up but I don't regret a moment.

Every step has taken me to the moment I am in now, writing to you, my friends and loved ones, and in this very moment, I'm content in who I am.

Since that heart break that seems like such a minor detail in my mind now, I've jumped in head first without looking. I've acted on my impulses and stepped out of my shell to dance my way along. I've loved again and on a deeper level and with more of my heart than I ever would have had that piece of my past not played out exactly as it did.

If I could go back and do it all again, I'd do it exactly the same because here is the most important point I wanted to share:

Three; I'm glad that what happened happened, because had it not, I'd never have known what it's like to love someone so fiercely that the happiest moments in your heart are the moments when you know THEY'RE happy.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

At A Loss

I've sat here staring at this empty box for several minutes at a time. I tabbed over in my browser to facebook, left some comments and came back. It's still blank. I opened youtube and watched a couple of videos, then returned to it. I still have nothing.

I've been running through my mind what I should or could make my next post about for several days. I mean, the idea of this public blog was to open up more to the people I don't necessarily share much with.

However, this week, I was pretty overwhelmed with a lot of little things and just found myself to be a sappy, emotional mess. Honestly, I don't think any of you want to hear me moan and complain here. If you do, well, thank you for that. It's very appreciated. I guess it's more that when I feel that way, I also feel like whatever I am going through, someone else has it so much worse. That pretty much nulls my desire to talk about my problems when all I can hear in my head is, "You're really going to whine about THAT when there are people out there in far more distress than you are? SHAME ON YOU!"

My conscience is not kind to me, heh

Maybe trying to figure out what direction to take this blog is part of my battle with myself to open up to people. If I feel like my feelings and thoughts are not of any interest to anyone else, I'll push them aside as a topic to converse on.

I guess I am open to suggestions about what you guys would like to talk about here. Apparently, this blog has had quite a few views already but I don't actually know who's reading.

Feel free to comment and offer me some ideas. Writer's block seems to have me at a loss today.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Family

I more than admit that I have not always been the most family-oriented individual. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to my immediate members, I have always put them before myself in my mind.

As far as extended family goes, I admit, I've spent time being more selective. I don't feel good about that. I could sit here and make excuses. I could speak of family drama. I could list reasons why I can't/don't get along with this person or that person. I could reason that this member lives so far away or this person doesn't seem to want to connect, therefore, why should I?

In heated moments of frustration especially, it's always easier to find reasons to excuse away a lack of compassion towards the people that we've grown up keeping at arms length. In those quiet moments of solitary contemplation, however, you have to start asking yourself why.

Growing up in a small town family can be incredibly difficult. You're around each other all of the time. Everyone seems to know (or thinks that they know) every detail of your life. There is little to no sense of privacy. Particularly during the teenage years when we're all striving to stand on our own as individuals, this tends to create resentment in feeling as if there is no part of your life that is yours alone.

Then there is the matter of small town politics. I find myself running into this issue more than anything. I am much more liberal whereas most of my extended family is a lot more conservative. Family gatherings, as rare as they have become, tend to get heated if these discussions come up and definitely play a part in how we interact with one another.

Then, something bad will happen. Someone will get a horrible medical diagnosis, or someone will pass on and suddenly, nothing else matters. We need each other. We love each other. We're glad to be within each others company.

Why does it have to come to that? Why does it take something negative happening to bring us all together in a positive way?

Every member of my extended family has played a positive role in my life at one point or another, whether it be something good they've done for one or both of parents or a kind act towards me or my brother. This is when I have to ask myself why it's so difficult to get along the rest of the time.

I don't want to only have a relationship with my family during the difficult times. I give them due credit that whenever I absolutely need them, they are constantly in my corner. I just wish this could be true on a regular basis.

Yesterday, my cousin Matthew, more often referred to as my brother due to how close we've always been growing up, showed up at my door. Some of you may know him as "Lemon." I'm lucky if I am able to see and spend time with him once a year and seeing him at my dining room table when I got up to get around for work last night was the best surprise I could have asked for, I think.

Matt and I are only a couple of years apart in age and we grew up being best friends. Though I may only see him once a year, when he is home, it's like being a happy-go-lucky kid again. We spend time together, laugh together and understand each other in a way that we both tend to feel that no one else does.

When he and I get together, it reminds me instantly of the old saying that blood is thicker than water. He's my cousin but as far as I've always been concerned, he's my older brother. We love each other, we stick up for each other, we protect each other and God knows, we fight. Although I'm grateful for the kind of relationship that we have and that it's something I don't quite share with anyone else in our family, I can't help but wonder; What would family gatherings be like if I did?

Sunday, May 20, 2012

An introduction

Hello friends, family and followers.

After much thought, here I am, finally opening a blog for public posting.


Over the past decade or so, I've spent time filling in thoughts via several blogs. I chose to keep those all semi-private by only inviting a handful of friends to view them. Much of my posts were more personal thoughts and frustrations that I've never felt comfortable airing to just anyone.

As I've matured to adulthood, my concerns and complaints have certainly changed.  I began my first blog in 2003, just prior to my high school graduation. When I read back through the entry archives of that blog, I can't help but shake my head at my teenage rants, moans and complaints. Nearly ten years later, those thoughts all seem so childish and trivial.

Most of my concerns now, I would like to think, are of a more adult variety. I worry about money. I worry about my future. I worry about the state of the country. I worry about the lack of a decent health care system. I wonder about this country's ignorance when it comes to the more taboo topics; abortion, gay marriage, etc. I worry about the increasing number of youth suicides, especially in relation to bullying. I will talk about a lot of these things on this blog, I'm sure.

I'll also talk about my interests from time to time. I enjoy video games, comic books, swimming, writing, reading, painting, craft-work... I enjoy reading immensely and can get into various genres; Fiction, Science Fiction, Biographies and Auto-Biographies, Historical Fiction, Contemporary and especially Classics.

I may also find myself talking about the books I am enjoying as a blog post simply because so many of my friends read and enjoy the same types of books as myself and I'm sure I'll find them following this page.

While this introduction just barely scratches the surface of who I am, here's hoping that as I explore the openness of public blogging, I will also open new paths in old relationships. Maybe I'll better get to know my  new friends and  new and 'old' family (or they'll better get to know me). I absolutely invite any of you to follow this blog, comment, share your wisdom with me, learn from me and teach me.

The only thing I ask is that everyone leave their bigotry, hatred & bad attitudes at the metaphorical door. I have no time or tolerance for it.

Having said that, I hope that this blog results in great discussions of logic, reason and learning as well plain old good conversation.

Good day to you all and welcome to my blog :)