New Home

Hello all.  This blog/journal/brain dump site is a replacement since my old site has recently been shut down.  As I have neither the time nor the mental energy to transfer all of my old entries over here, we're going to be starting over again.  So some of you may end up re-reading some things, but fret not, there's always new things around the corner.

For the newbies, just a quick intro so that we're all on the same page - I am not a good journal-er.  I'm rather crap at it, actually.  This failing in my makeup is not from a lack of interest/trying/understanding, mind; rather, I think that it stems from the fact that whenever I get a spanking, shiny new notebook, perfectly lined and attractively bound, I inevitably get no further than two pages into it when I lose all interest, feel foolish and altogether embrace the utter failure of the whole endeavor.  The main problem used to lie in my hand's inability to keep time with my thoughts, so I branched out and tried typing and so far it has panned out all right.  Plus, I really like typing *clackity clackity clack*

Oh, also, when there's background info the newbies don't know, I'll set it off with FtN (For the Newbies), so no one gets left behind.

As usual, I am writing instead of doing something more urgent, in this case cleaning.  So we'll leave the entry at the intro, and I'll part with a short story from work (FtN:  I work at a small children's museum).  I was checking in a couple and their children yesterday and handed the wristbands to the adults.  The little boy (who was maybe all of 6) turned to his interracial parents and asked them why he didn't get a bracelet.  "They're just for the adults," his mother told him as she put the band on her husband's wrist.  The boy watched this for a moment, then his face cleared and he said, "Oh, just for the black people."

I couldn't help it - I busted up laughing.  Hell, I'm still laughing