Memories...

One year.

284 posts.

That means 284 random musings…284 little bits ‘o heaven….c’mon, admit it.

So, what have we ascertained as we hit the golden #285?

We’ve learned that for the most part…random musings can be funny when presented with insight, candor and no small degree of talent. (I’m allowed to toot today, right?)

We’ve learned that my IV can be a royal pain in the butt. Over and over and over again. (I love ya, C-man…you know I do…)

We’ve learned that frogs, socks, weeds and subtitles can all somehow be a topic for a 500-word post.

Who knew?

Evidently, nothing is officially off-topic. And being part of my life means you’re automatically subject to public scrutiny/humiliation/microscopic evaluation.

And so, once again…hats off to my good friend Jackie…who was the first to emphatically insist that I was no longer allowed keep my thoughts to myself...and we can’t help but wonder how many times she may have kicked herself for not staying quiet…

Below is my original post. From waaaaay back on April 5, 2008. You little whipper-snappers.

April 5, 2008: ...and so we begin. (I hope.)

Hey.

My good friend-I won't mention her name here...don't want to embarrass her- (it's Jackie) suggested it might be a healthy outlet for me to "publish" some of my musings in a more...ahem...public way than within the traditional emails. When she brought it up for the third (or was it the fourth?) time, I figured she was trying to tell me something. I may walk around in a semi-permanent state of "muddledness", but I do catch on...eventually.

And yes, that's a real word. Look it up. I dare ya.

Okay...don't. I made it up.

For those of you that are sighing dramatically at this point...tapping your foot (watch out for the computer wire)...and wondering "What's the point to all of this?"...well, you can stop wondering.

For the most part, I have no point. I am a totally normal gal, with maybe just a tad more imagination than the average Joe. (Wait. What's the female version of the "average Joe?" IS there one?)

I digress.

Anyway, I'm the proverbial ping-pong ball...hurtling through life. Did you ever try to play ping-pong? That stupid little white ball that weighs...what?...minus one ounce...can anyone really control the direction of this stupid ball? I don't know...there must be an exact science to how hard you're supposed to hit this little puff of nothing, to make it sail through the air for exactly 3 feet, then bounce once, to be hit back by someone hopefully more adept at this than I could ever hope to be.

Not that I would know any of this. I don't play ping-pong. Seriously.

It's an analogy, people. Anyway, I'm the ball. How many of you are snickering at this? You people are so immature.

Where was I? Oh, hurtling through life. Yep, that's me. So, life happens...and I'll try to report to you on it. I can't promise that you'll ever particularly care, but I can promise the event will be met with at least a dollop of humor. How else can we survive this whole life-journey-thing?

So, for those of you who've read my e-stories/musings/conversations and have clamored for more, consider bookmarking this place. I'll try to keep 'em coming.

Next post: How Clinton Kelly can exist in one's head...and wreak havoc with a simple (or not) wardrobe decision.

From here, who knows where we'll go? So long as we can laugh a little...cry a little bit less...and continue to raise our glasses in merriment (without the threat of liver damage crimping our style along the way) we're golden, people.

Here's to many more laughs together.