My First Time...

So, after much contemplation I am starting a blog.  More than anything for myself, I guess.  Maybe in the hopes that if I put some of my thoughts "on paper" then there will be less of them floating around in my head.....there are a lot of thoughts in my head and sometimes I just need more room in there.  I already know there will be no rhyme or reason to what goes here.  My thoughts jump around so much to try to organize them would be a sure sanity killer, so I'm just going to put them down as they come to me and see what happens.

I just had this flash of being Carrie Bradshaw, pouring out my heart to my laptop.  Odd though, since I've only seen probably five episodes of Sex and the City.  How is it that I am a girl and wasn't totally into that show?  I dunno, I just wasn't.  Maybe it was the atrocities that they called fashion, maybe it was the ridiculous way it made me feel like I wasn't girly enough.  Wait, breaking news!  My husband just asked if I wanted to see a magic trick, then waved his hands in circles around his belly dramatically pulling an apple out of his hoodie pouch and exclaiming "I've had an apple the whole time and you didn't even know it!"  If you think that's amusing, the ensuing conversation amused me much more.  After asking if I was blogging about his magic trick, he read what I had written and questioned my use of "hoodie pouch."  I informed him that it was the best description as it's not really a pocket, and offered that I could have called it a muff.  At this point he looks quizzically at me and I have to ask him if he knows what a muff is (I know this is going to go nowhere good), to which he replies "I think I've been diving in them"......In my need to educate him I stupidly decide to Google it so he can see what I'm talking about.  Luckily there was  a picture of the type of  muff I was referring to, but the bevy of other images referencing the female anatomy that popped up along with it somehow sparked a spot in my dear husbands brain that request I then look up "poop noodles" in the Urban Dictionary.  And I did.  Why I did can  be tossed into the ever growing pile of things I've done in the name of my husbands wishes, including but not limited to smelling his bellybutton, letting him probe my throat for tonsil stones, and allowing him to induct me into the Pen 15 club (don't know what that is, ask a male friend, I'm sure he'll be glad to make you a member).

As time goes on you will discover that my husband, we'll call him Clark, isn't the stupid college humor chauvinist pig he may appear to be.  He's really pretty awesome, and smart too.  But he is still a guy, so, there ya go.  At any rate, I think this is going to be one fun ride and I look forward to many more blogs.

Until next time,
Wabi Sabi Jane