I'm tired. I'm tired of not being shocked by atrocities. I'm tired of violence and death in ever greater numbers becoming routine. I'm tired of hearing about people being killed because some stranger was trying to make a point, serve a cause, or just earn some notoriety.

I don't know what I can do personally about it, except to express my love for humanity. Black, white, straight, gay, whatever you may be, whether I belong to your race, agree with your lifestyle, know you, or don't know you. I love you. I think that you have value. I know that you have your own beautifully complex life with your likes, dislikes, goals, loves, and trials. May we all somehow make it through this journey we call life, finding happiness where we can, and enduring heartache where we must.

If you are enduring heartache right now, please know you aren't alone.

I love you.

Living Room

This is my pretty blog. It's like my mom's living room. Kept in good shape, ready for guests, and the debris of my life tucked safely out of view.

The problem that I've realized is that a living room does not a house make. Nope, what makes a house is the bedroom (though some would probably say that kitchen trumps bedroom, I disagree.) If you are one of those neat and tidy people maybe your bedroom looks just like your living room (clean) with the exception that there is a bed in it instead of a couch and love seat set.

I am not one of those people. My bedroom looks nothing like my mom's living room. Sometime the mess gets to even me and I spend a few hours getting it clean enough that I can start getting it properly dirty again, but most of the time my room is in a delightful state of chaos.

But I'm okay with that. My bedroom is mine. It's the place where I can run and shut myself in when life gets overwhelming (all too often), and the place where I can lounge in my underwear if I so choose without inflicting that sight on anyone else in the world.

This blog is not like that. This blog is like the living room, for the guest, not for me. My facebook is also for the guest instead of for me (although thankfully, unlike my facebook pag, my parents haven't found this so they can let me know whenever anything that I post or write might be inappropriate or offensive in any way shape or form to anyone.) I don't post controversial things, I try not to yank any chains, or post passive aggressive comments, or depressing song lyrics with no context which will make people think I want to kill myself.

I have a wonderful friend who recently showed me their blog, and it was a bedroom, no question about it. Reposts of stills and gifs from a favorite tv show, short spur of the moment posts, and rants with language that would make a sailor blush.

I'm jealous. I have lots of rants and tonight in particular it would be satisfying to let fly. But I'm not going to, because this isn't a bedroom.

Instead you get a tidied up pseudo-philosophical stream of consciousness about internet bedrooms.

@%&# it.

Divorce

Apparently, it's been a year and some change since I've last posted anything to this blog, and longer than that since I've posted anything of substance. It looks like my last real post was along the lines of looking for the motivation that would allow myself to to support myself and my wife as we started a family.

Oh how much can change in a year.

Divorce.

It's an ugly word, especially to Mormons that believe that if they do everything according "to plan" that a happy successful family is guaranteed and insured by God. I certainly felt that way; I got baptized, got the priesthood, went on a mission, and got married in the temple. Then, I got a divorce.

"Excuse me God but I'd like for you to review this certificate of authenticity..."
...
"Exactly, I knew that there must be some mistake so can you please get on that immediately."
...
"Okay, I'll go see Gabriel in customer service and we'll get that straightened out."

Sadly, it was not to be and the reality is divorce.

We Mormons have an interesting relationship with divorce. As I was beginning this terrible process and moving home my social life became nearly non-existant. I'd been married for two years so I didn't have too many single friends and I didn't see the married friends that I'd spent the most times with because I was too busy being a broken recluse living in my parents house. When I did see them though we'd have our brief conversations that were awkward and ended quickly, and I would be haunted by the look in their eyes that practically screamed "You are a living embodiment of the worst failure I fear in this life."


I felt judged, all the time. I felt like a failure in more ways than one. After all, we have these wonderful gospel gems like this one to provide support and reassurance to us in these trying times.

"No other success can compensate for failure in the home."

         - David O. McKay

I do not want to beat a dead horse, and I couldn't begin to describe this to the point of understanding without giving the appearance of beating said dead horse so allow me to just say: The emotional, spiritual, psychological, and even physical trauma of divorce is more pain than I ever thought I would be called on to bear, and more pain than I thought myself capable of bearing.

My lowest point came one evening a couple of weeks after the separation. I was taking a shower and behind the safety of the locked door and under cover of the sound of the running water I let myself cry. I was crying a lot over these months , all the time actually, so I really ought to say I let myself sob. So I am standing in the shower sobbing my guts out and I am so emotionally exhausted that I am physically overwhelmed and collapse into a sobbing heap on the floor of the bathtub. I lie there as the hot water runs out and I'm being sprayed with icy cold water and don't give a damn. In fact, as I think back, beyond somehow cerebrally knowing that the water was cold and probably uncomfortable I was too numb and lost in my pain to care.

Now, I suppose some of you (if there are any of you) reading this may be wondering why I'm telling you this. Maybe it's because I think that divorce is a reality that is conveniently ignored (for the most part) in the church and thus the people unfortunate enough to have to go through it are left relatively lost and unsupported in what is very possibly their time of greatest need. Maybe it's because I've heard some of the rumors about me, and the speculation on the underlying reasons for my divorce. Without exception, the rumors and speculation were wildly off base and hurtful. Another reason is that this is part of me trying to come to terms with an event that has impacted my life permanent way.

More thoughts later, maybe in another year.

Teaser

I think I may have something profound in the works. At least, that's possible. Or it's possibly profound.

Motivation

If you ever want to make fun of actors all you do is walk up to someone and say in as serious a voice as you can muster (plus a British accent helps) "What's my motivation?"

I have recently taken to thinking quite often to myself (in a British accent) "Where's my motivation?" I know What my motivation is. It's that I'm a young newlywed trying to get decent grades and work in a job so that I can support my family now and in the future. I know exactly what my motivation is. I just seem to have misplaced it.

The other day I got up at 6:00 a.m. to finish some Spanish homework that I'd left off the night before because I'd simply been too exhausted for rational thought. Sounds motivated right, getting up early, rising against the forces of gravity and momentum in order actually get oneself out of bed and start the day.

Well, I did those things. I was motivated. Then I sat on the couch with my laptop open on my lap for two hours staring at the Spanish homework on the screen. NOTE: I was not perusing facebook, or other things. I was simply sitting and staring. This seems to be happening to me quite often as of late. I find it distressing, and when I look at my grades I find it more distressing.

Perhaps I'm exhausted from the fact that I have class from nine to noon everyday, followed by work from twelve thirty to five followed by homework.

Of course, one contributing factor I believe was that for the two months at the beginning of the semester I would come home from work at five and then go to rehearsal from six to eleven. I was simply exhausted. I still am. I'm not even taking a heavy class schedule. I think that this is the lightest course load I've ever had. That does not bode well.

Anyway, more on that later. But if you see my motivation anywhere, let me know.

The Wind

I believe that we as human beings live in the middle of a hurricane. Not a great physical hurricane taking place in the cosmos or even one of those minor ones that has a habit of destroying the Florida Keys every few years. I think we're talking about a hurricane of instability.

Fortunately though, I said we're in the middle of the hurricane, and as we all know from 4th grade science (or the movie The Perfect Storm) That's where the eye of the hurricane is. A place of relative peace sheltered from the winds of uncertainty. Where as long as we keep pace with the hurricane and move in the direction that it's moving you can feel a modicum of predictability

Out There amidst the shrieking winds and roiling waters are all of those things that we don't know about and can't approach for certain and can't predict. Out there is the untamed wild.

Did you know that the Wright brothers made 4 flights in their original flyer? They also made them within the space of a few days of eachother. What kind of weather do you think they flew in? If it were me I'd have waited for a calm summer day before trying to test out the first ever flying machine. No, they made the first flight in December of 1903. A very cold day in North Carolina and they did it by flying their airplane into freezing wind that was gusting at around 25 mph.

They flew directly into the wind and achieved flight. It's interesting to note that that legacy carries on today. To conduct flight operations an Air Craft Carrier will increase it's speed and turn into the wind before launching its airplanes. Moving into the wind and away from the calm was and is the only way you can make them fly.

Why, in life, are we so concerned with staying in the eye of the storm. Why don't we brave the winds? Why don't we make sudden changes? I don't know, I wouldn't be posting this if I did know. Maybe you do, will you share?

You know what I realized as I was writing this? When you are moving in the eye of the storm it may be stable, but there are clouds on every side. Only when you brave the winds and fly will you break out of the storm and see the sunset.

An Update!

Bet that caught you by surprise, didn't it?

Companionship

I have a dog, my dog loves me. My life will always have meaning.

It's an interesting line of thought, No? (Of course my fiance will probably read it and wonder it is the dog that is mentioned and not her, to which I will probably have to say "Umm..." quite a few times and then talk about how I was talking about a different kind of love.) I am talking about a different kind of love. I'm talking about a love that borders on blind devotion. (I would say no pun intended, but most people don't know my dog is blind.) I have been the only person at my house for the greater part of last week, and will remain the only resident for quite a bit of next week. Just me and Truly. Being the only one here has made me see just how much dogs need companionship and how much they are reliant on friendship. I suppose that she is going through separation anxiety because first my Mom, Brother, and Sister left, followed by my Dad a few days later. The family is slowly trickling away until there wont be any left.

I, as the last remaining, am being fiercely guarded. If friends come over and move towards me too quickly Truly will jump on them and give a bit of a warning nip. This is quite different from usual. As is her standing in front of the door whenever it's time for me to go to work. Even if she is comfortably asleep if I leave the room somehow she wakes up enough to follow.

Others might find it annoying. I find it touching and an insight into the important things in life. Cumulatively I don't even want to think about how many hours I spend on the computer. Or in front of the TV or video games. My family is right there. Even more important since this chapter of my life is about to end. It is a very bittersweet time in my life. I spend too much time in front of electronics, I spend too much time reading, I spend too much time not interacting with my family. It's ironic though, isn't it? That even though we shove them into a small corner of our lives, that we still say that family is what's most important to us? Even though I get too easily annoyed by my younger siblings, or impatient with my little sister I would gladly die for them? Why is it that I can make the big sacrifices but the the little things are the chores?

My little sister, is one of the greatest and strongest people I know. She doesn't hear it often enough, how much I love her. The rest of my family doesn't hear it often enough either. But what I think I'm trying to get across is that I haven't shown it enough. I suppose that this entry is bordering on the too personal so I'll cut it a little bit short except to give a small piece of advice.

Never leave anyone in doubt of the positive feelings that you have for them. To do so is to live with regret.

Inspiration Cometh

Inspiration cometh or doesn't cometh as the case may be. So I look at the screen and I think what to write about? What wit or wisdom could I or should I share? As far as the inspiration goes, this is definitely a case of the latter, but I'll start writing and see what happens.

just as an insight into the writing process I'll have you know that it was at this point that I wrote three paragraphs and have ended up deleting them all. So as you can see nothing is happening

I feel like Elmer Fudd, "Be vewy vewy quiet, I am hunting inspiwation. What is inspiration? Where does it come from? Why does it motivate us to change/speak out/act out? Why are there certain topics that just seem to reverbrate with different people. With one person it could be saving whales, with another the ozone layer, for millions it could be why they came out with New Coke, or for one opionated woman who's blog I read tonight it could be feminism to the point of neo-nazism. (Trust me, she was crazy!)

When I was in Highschool I downloaded a bunch of famous speeches from history and movies. I put them all on a CD and listened to them. Some of my particular favorites were three speeches by Winston Churchill after the British withdrawel from Dunkirk. When the Lord of the Rings movies came out I finally had a decent recording of Theoden's speeches. JFK, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Tim Collins. I love the speeches from Shakespeare from Brutus to Henry V. What is it that makes these words so inspiring?

One Month

Normally I subject information on my blog to rigorous standards of accuracy. However, tonight I am tired that with the exception of the math that will be performed in the second paragraph, what you are going to get is a * which means According to Wikipedia.

In one month, it will be August 11th. That is to say, in 31 days time, it will be 223rd day of the year. (224th on leap years). In 742.25 hours it will be August 11th. In 44,535 minutes exactly from the time of my writing this, it will be August 11th. In 2,672,040 seconds, it will be August 11th.

Why the obsession withAugust 11th? It does seem to be an odd thing to be obsessive about doesn't it? I mean there are so many compulsions, fetishes, and manias out there that August 11th doesn't seem to be particularly outstanding.

Here are a couple of reasons August 11th might be considered important.*

August 11th 1988 formation of a gentleman's club called Al Qaeda is formed, primarily for the organization of mock competitive tennis matches.*

August 11th 2003 the prayers of countless historically ignorant and ungrateful Americans are answered, resulting in a Parisian heat wave that leaves nearly 15o Parisians dead.*

August 11th 1999 Mike Huckabee's prayers are answered with a smaller death toll, and a tornado rips through Salt Lake City Utah killing one.*

August 11th 480 B.C. Leonides, King of Sparta, is brutally killed just after throwing a spear and inflicting a cut on Xerxes right cheek.*

August 11th 1953 Hulk Hogan is delivered from his mother's womb already sporting a handlebar mustache.*

August 11th 897 Wilfred the Hairy, Count of Barcelona, dies of complications due to a horrible nick-name* (He was also stabbed in battle, but it's widely agreed the root cause was the moniker*)

As you can see, a lot of world changing things have happenned on August 11th. However, in one month, in (skip to the second paragraph and read that again, I don't feel like repeating all the typing.) On August 11th an event is taking place that will leave the world changed forever, an event so momentous I'm writing about it here.

I am getting married.

Yes, A girl has been found with both the poor eyesight and judgement required.

In all seriousness though. I am one month away from the best decision and moment in my life. It has been a hard road, it is a hard road, and it will be a hard road. Sacrifices and compromises have been made and are being made. There are hard moments in any relationship. It's hard, when you first fall in love, to let yourself see the imperfections in the other person. It's harder still, once you've been in love, to make yourself forget them.

To the world in general, I say this: Love is hard, love is painful, love is a commodity that requires time, energy, creativity, and sacrifice. There are words in the English language that describe the costs, or the casualties of and to love. But there are no words, that can describe what love gives and means. I don't care who you are, where you are, how old you are, or what you think you want out of this life. Love will make who you are better, where you are more interesting, how old you are younger, and what you want irrelevant.

To those people that are looking or still looking for love, I believe in you, and know that you will eventually find what you are looking for.

To those of you, like me, who have found it, congratulations on being the luckiest people on Earth.

Alternate Forms of Communication

I was looking at the blogs of note section today. Hurrah for people who spend their lives doing interesting things and writing them down so the rest of us sitting in our living rooms may pretend that we are in fact doing them. Or, perhaps we imagine that we are gathered around a family room looking at slides and all commenting intelligently upon them. We give our remarks sparingly "The rhinocerous came a bit close that charge, don't you think Nigel?" or "I like the juxtaposition of the panzies and the welding torch." And in return we are given a solemn nod of acknowledgment. Then we are left to bask in the glow of affirmation.

Mayhaps, I am jealous. I long for that affirmation to suddenly be notified that yes, mine is a blog of note. Perhaps that having so recently acquired the taste for writing down my thoughts and opinions in the public domain I want them to be as public as possible. Read on ye ends of the Earth! For when I blog, let no monitor be untouched, let no screen be spared the fiery black pixelation that is my words neatly typed in twelve point font! Perhaps I need to work on my medium.

Speaking of mediums, I think that this generation has got some very unique forms of communication. I was thinking, what if some great men in the past had had access to the resources and methods of communication that we have today. Do you think the ten commandments would have been as well recieved if they had been sent out in the form of a mass text message?

Sent 4:52 p.m.:

1. no gds b4 me."

2. dont prA to jpegs

3. dont talk bad bout me

4. keep sabbath da

recieved 5:01 p.m.

Sent 4:54 p.m.

y holy.

5.do what parents say

6. dont kill

delivery fail rest of

message

irretrievable.

Or Blog?

"Went up to the top of Horeb today and there were some gorgeous views. If I'd brought a hammer and chisel I would have gotten some great shots. Sometimes it's good to just get away from it all. I know that I'm called of God, but sometimes even I need to just take a break and get out among nature."

Perhaps if it occurred on facebook?

Moses just got out of camp for a while to stretch his legs. 7:46 a.m.

Aaron is in charge until Moses gets back, what am I supposed to do? 8:04 a.m.

God poked Moses 9:13 a.m.

Isrealites are bored, anybody got anything going on? 9:37 a.m.

God tagged Moses in his note "10 commandments" 10:28 a.m.

Isrealites are still booooored!!! isnt anybody doing anything!?!?!? 11:53 a.m.

Moses is having the most amazing day EVER!!!! 12:17 p.m.

Evil Isrealites invited Isrealites to the event "Rockin the Camp, party 2400 B.C." 12:20 p.m.

Isrealites RSVP'd attending to the event "Rockin the Camp, party 2400 B.C." 12:25 p.m.

Isrealites we'll bring brownies and decorations. 12:42 p.m.

Aaron hates chaperoning how did I get myself roped into this? 12:51 p.m.

Isrealites downloaded the "Make Decorations" application and made a Golden Calf!!! 1:07 p.m.

Evil Isrealites this party is awesome 3:15 p.m.

Isrealites are dancing the night away... 7:14 p.m.

Isrealites superpoked God with a Golden Calf! 8:00 p.m

God can't believe how ungrateful people are 8:01 p.m.

Moses can't believe how stupid his people are 8:03 p.m.

Aaron is in so much trouble... 9:05 p.m.

Moses superpoked Evil Isrealites with stone tablets 9:18 p.m.

God superpoked Evil Isrealites with swords of the faithful 9:20 p.m.

God ended his relationship with Evil Isrealites 9:30 p.m.

Isrealites just want to say sorry, and if you're reading this you know who you are. 9:45 p.m.

Moses tagged Isrealites in note "10 commandments" 10:07 p.m.

Somehow I don't think that all of this has quite the same effect.

Portrait Of A Sinner

What I Was Thinking

In my last entry I left a dangler at the beginning about how going to the James River Footbridge had led me on some interesting lines of thought, but then I got so caught up telling the story of the bridge that I never told what I was thinking. So here it goes...

While walking back across the footbridge with my friend Ben, I was telling him how much fun I had had. That sometimes, all you needed in life was warm water and a place to jump into it from. I think that that's a very true sentiment. And there is a part of me that wants that, and wants the things that could give me that. Confession time I suppose.

My dad works at Southern Virginia University. A small college, with a small campus and a good student body. It seems... intimate somehow. Not with the people there, although you get that feeling. But with the school itself. Intimacy in a relationship I suppose is safety and confidence when sharing your feelings. I share my feelings alot, especially to SVU. There is a beauty and a grace to the school, and when I talk to the walls of the 200 year old main hall (I only do this in my head so I don't get weird looks as I walk down the hallways) I really feel like they listen. A very big part of me has decided that my life could take much worse courses of actions than to come back and fill my father's shoes teaching at this school.

But what to do in the mean time? I suppose that I could graduate and go straight to grad school. The familial years of starving grad students are defining times I hear. or get a regular job that would support my family and put the rest on hold. Graphic and web design are things that I'm good at and that I enjoy doing. With that kind of job I would have stability and a more permanent place to live with my wife and raise my family. I'd get a house in a small town, the kind that you never see on the news or that never does anything controversial, and take my kids to go swimming in the river. That seems like a good plan doesn't it? A life well lived, working a job that earns a living, but doesn't affect much of anything outside of who's paying you to do it. Maybe end up teaching. Again those words come back, "a life well lived," "the salt of the Earth." Sounds pretty good. I'm betting that it sounds really good to my soon-to-be wife Kaitlin (who is the best woman in the world) These are things that I want, and that she wants too. I'm already looking forward to the day that I can edit this blog entry and replace the random picture of a family that I found with one of my own. So you can see my kids there, and I can point, smile, and brag, and do all those other things dads are supposed to do. That is exactly the kind of family that I want.

One small hitch, not so deep down inside me there's something else. Call it whatever you want, call it the Call of Duty, a desire to make a larger difference, to be a part of something larger, a thirst for adventure. I think, that to me, calling it the call of duty fits best. When I was talking to my friend Ben, I was telling him how much I enjoyed swimming in the river and jumping the bridge. But at the same time I knew that those were freedoms and opportunities that I had that were not universal. We can talk about the universal right to the pursuit of happiness all we want, but some people are able to come a big step closer because of the things that other people do for them. It's not just a metaphor, that there's a wall out there where good men stand to keep evil at bay. That's a wall built by freedom loving men and women, and maintained by the self-sacrifice of the same. I'm betting that everyone reading this has seen on the news what happens when destruction and hate come over that wall. I don't know why, I don't know the reason that I feel like I have to earn my place in this country, or why I want to make a difference. There are others willing to do the job but I'm pulled toward it. I don't know what it would take to satisfy this feeling. I want to work for my country and I feel pulled toward the Army. We'll see what the future holds, Army, Air Force, FBI, or anything else.

What's a man to do?

Throwing Myself Off a Bridge

It's not a threat, or hidden compulsion that my parents somehow instilled in me, it's what I did today.

It also led me to some interesting lines of thought on my part, but I'll get to those once I've described what I did today. When you leave Buena Vista and right before you get to Big Island there is a pull off that leads to the James River Footbridge which leads to a part of the Appalachian Trail. The Bridge is at least two hundred meters long and (at the level of the base) roughly 35 feet above the water. I could be wrong, judge for yourself, that blue fuzz on the bridge is a person standing on it. On the wilderness side of the river where the bridge meets the trail there are large stone "steps" that lead to the water. You can barely see them in the first picture. It's a popular place to go swimming and for the more adventurous it's fun to jump off those stone steps. (Different levels of steps for varying levels of courage.) I started with the steps and jumped a few times, then had fun trying to climb up the rock walls, falling back into the water any time I'd made significant progress.

For the truly brave you can jump off of the last pylon that's at the end of the bridge as well. As you can see here it's about level with the bottom of the bridge so my guesstimate would be about 35 feet above the water. It is pretty fun jumping off the pylon, the jump is high enough that you actually get that weightless feeling of free fall right before you hit the water. Make sure you land correctly though or you might find yourself hurting. On clear days, which it was today the pylons are also large enough and in the sun enough that they are perfect for sunbathing. The only significant thing about that is that you might find yourself unable to jump because a girl might have claimed your spot.

Out in the water under the bridge there is what looks like a former pylon that you can swim out to and climb up on if you are a) physically fit, b) tall, or c) have friends that are a) or b) that are willing to help you. You can climb up on it and use it as a smaller, more personal jumping platform. We got even better though, some guys that were hiking the Appalachian trail that day had set up some ropes between it and the second pylon out and were trying to slackrope walk across. It was pretty funny because you can't pull a rope very taut as it is, and the one that they chose had a lot of slack on it anyway. We tried it and it was their turn to do the laughing at us falling off the rope.

After we had spent some time doing that it was time for us to return to the bridge and for me to perform my masculine rite of passage. I'd already jumped off the pylon that was level with the bridge, but I had yet to jump the bridge. This is different from the pylon in several ways. There is no easy way of getting on the other side of the guardrails, you have to climb through the truss, and hold on for dear life as you lower yourself to the bottom rail of the truss, then you have to find a way to turn around and face the water all the while holding on. This is because with the trusses built the way they are there is only room for you to stand leaning outward so if you let go you fall and end up doing a thirty foot bellyflop. However, I overcame my trepidation... and jumped.

There are those crazy enough to jump off the top rail of the bridge, (Which is another nightmare of climbing up.) I have yet to join their ranks, but I plan on going back...

And That's the Way It Ought To Be

Walter Cronkite was known as "the most trusted man in America." He was particularly known for ending his news broadcasts with the phrase "And that's the way it is." That's a fine thing for a journalist who is trying to maintain objectivity to say don't you think?

However, my blog is not me trying to report things in the world as they are. I suppose that some element of blogging consists of journal like entries that merely report the events of the day to day. (Although instead of hiding it under the mattress we immediately post it in the public domain for anyone to read.) My blog will probably consist of things like that. However I also have the terrible handicap of when writing something that others will read (ah, my delusions of grandeur begin) I feel it should be significant. I cannot report by rote the events of day to day. What would that mean, how would it edify you?

As you can see pride easily takes ahold of me and I immediately place myself in the position of edifying you. (But at least I take the responsibility my pride places upon me seriously!) And thus quite frequently I find myself not writing anything until I know that I've had a grand epiphany that all of humanity will benefit from. Or, as in this case, writing at close to three o'clock in the morning when both my judgement and inhibitions are skewed making me think I've written something grand and important.

Anyway, more to the point, I've named this blog "That's the Way It Ought To Be" because I want to be able to look beyond the mundane, and see the possibilities. I suppose that if there were a statement of purpose for this blog, that would be it. To give you my perspective, on what would make this world a better/more interesting place. At the same time I suppose you should know what you are getting yourselves into so here are my blogger principles:

• This blog is mine, it will consist merely of my thoughts and does not nor should it reflect on those assosciating with me.
• To the extent that it is mine, yet remains public, this blog will not be used to insult any other human being aside from myself. No one is an exception to this, I do not bash, flame, roast, criticize, belittle, insult, or disrespect people.
• I do however, write about people. I like to think of myself as a student of human nature and I watch people and try to infer meaning and motivation from actions. There will probably be times where I will mention people (by first name only) and mention some mundane thing that they've done.
• I like to be complimentary, I don't think people do it enough.
• I like to make painfully miserable attempts at being funny or witty.

Well, you've been warned, if you (imaginary person in my head that will find the things I write interesting) have read all of the above and want to stick with it. Then welcome aboard, I'll try to make it an interesting ride.