Saturday, May 28, was pretty eventful. I could easily write 5 or 6 separate postings on what occurred. I was at my ex's place in the a.m. (The topic of my relationship with my ex is easily worth a few postings). She served me breakfast and we were all eating together. We were originally all going to go to Star Wars III:Revenge of the Sith. My ex, MB, heard that it wasn't a good movie for kids. So it ended up that Ted, my middle child (6 yrs. old) went with me to Star War III. Then MB, my oldest son and the youngest, Brianna, went to Madagascar. The movie I saw with Ted is definitely worth 2 postings (one on the plot/special effects & another on the obvious parallels between Sith vs. Jedis and God vs. Satan & their respective people. After the movie, my ex took a nap, & I took the kids to my apartment while Andy, my oldest (9 yrs. old) surfed the Net. The other 2 were playing with the neighbor kids. While they were doing that I vacuumed my living room and part of the bedroom. Then we all got back together and went to church. The priest gave a pretty good homily (another separate posting). Then the whole went to the restaurant, The Cracker barrel where I bought dinner. They had some tables that had checkers. After dinner, I taught Andy and to a lesser extent, Ted how to play checkers. My youngest, Brianna (3 yrs. old) wanted to play but she's too young so when we said "no" to her she went crying to Mom. The checkers game was arranged where I was playing against Andy and Ted was my partner. Things were going well at the beginning of the game, because it wasn't obvious who was winning. Since it was Andy's 1st game, I gave him suggestions on where to move and corrected him if he tried to move a regular checker backwards. But, the game unraveled in the middle because Brianna was crying and when Ted cheered whenever I jumped Andy's checker, Andy would hit Ted. When Andy cheered or said, "Ha, Ha" to Ted when he jumped a checker, then Ted would hit him or scream at him. Boys will be boys.
But, still I couldn't ruin people's dining experience at the restaurant. There was a window and wall separating us from the diners, but my 2 sons were so loud that the diners could hear them through the window. So, we had to stop the game and go home. Andy & Ted were so angry with each other that I had to sit in the back with Ted while Andy sat in front. By this time, it was 8:30 pm. & I left them to go back to my apartment and get my 9 hrs. of sleep before my hospital shift starting @ 6:45 the next morning. It was a wonderful day which I was very thankful for. Working 2 places, it was a very rare day off. After I get off work, I look forward to seeing them again, and also will spend most of Memorial Day with them as well.
------------------
I don't follow race car driving at all, but I was interested in Danica Patrick and how she did at the Indy 500. I followed her regularly this week in the sports page, and today, while I worked at the hospital, I spent most of my lunch break keeping track of her racing. She ended up finishing 4th, survived 1 fender bender that I saw that she was in. She was leading the race for about 15 laps. The winner will get $2 million, I wonder how much Danica will win? I'll find out in tomorrow's sports page. Way to go, Danica!!
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
Help Part II!!
I ruined 3 dress shirts last night. While doing the laundry, I was a dumb ass and didn’t clean out the pockets. Unfortunately, my Orbit bubblegum (the best damn gum, period) got all over each and every dress shirt and ruined them. So if you know a good way to clean out gum, please let me know.
If you don’t, I’m going to have to go to the local Goodwill store & buy some $5 dress shirts. Not much of a threat, mind you, but still......
If you don’t, I’m going to have to go to the local Goodwill store & buy some $5 dress shirts. Not much of a threat, mind you, but still......
Monday, May 23, 2005
Hey you!need some advice on the posting dilemma!
my next blog is going to be about my Friday night adventure. I very rarely go out but got a chance last weekend to do so. Friday night involved someone who I really want to date again. She is someone I work with, someone I really admire.
Someday I want to show her this blogsite, but with if she hates or despises what I wrote about her? She's really smart and I value her opinion so eventually I am going to tell her about this site. But it really complicates what I am going to write about Friday night, so I am still in the process of writing about the interesting Friday night we had at the group dinner and Arabic dance later on at a northside Chicago club (Souk's on North Ave. & Damen St.)
I know every single one of my readers is smart; so, please give me some much needed advice!
Someday I want to show her this blogsite, but with if she hates or despises what I wrote about her? She's really smart and I value her opinion so eventually I am going to tell her about this site. But it really complicates what I am going to write about Friday night, so I am still in the process of writing about the interesting Friday night we had at the group dinner and Arabic dance later on at a northside Chicago club (Souk's on North Ave. & Damen St.)
I know every single one of my readers is smart; so, please give me some much needed advice!
Part 3: the 'shroom that got stuck
In the fall of '86, I went to a house party with plenty of booze and people. Steve, my next roommate, wasn't there but his nice, attractive girlfriend, Marcia, was. I talked to her briefly but not too much because she was talking to the friends she was with. During the party, someone passed out 'shrooms. I distinctly remember swallowing the mushroom and it getting stuck in my esophagus. I wasn't choking, but I definitely noticed a sensation that it wasn't "going down". AFter drinking several beers, it finally made it's way down my digestive tract.
I had high (no pun intended) hopes for 'shrooms. Before that night, I recall a co-worker talking about shrooms and sitting around with her friends and laughing uncontrollably.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. The 'shroom I swallowed might just as well been the same kind of mushroom I ate on pizzas. It had no effect on me whatsoever. NOTHING!!
Sadly enough, that didn't stop Marcia from telling my roommate that I had a serious drug problem. THat was a strange remark especially since I wasn't high, wasn't drunk and took no other types of drugs that night. My biggest regret is not chewing the shroom more thoroughly. May more of it would have found it's way to my bloodstream rather than out my colon. Unlike acid or cocaine, I'm not ruling out taking a 'shroom again. The hope is that if I thoroughly chew it something funnier will happen.
Later, Steve, my roommate, confronted me about my "serious drug problem". Why did he say that? It wasn't because he saw me drunk (he never did); it wasn't because I did many drugs (he didn't see me take anything but alcohol and pot). No, the only reason he confronted me was because of what Marcia told him.
In retrospect, his remarks were ironic to say the least. That very semester, I ended up having the best GPA of my collegiate career (a 3.8 and 7 months later I graduated college with Honors). On the other hand, Steve had average to poor grades that semester nearly flunking out of his Basic Accounting class.
Part 4: TBA
I had high (no pun intended) hopes for 'shrooms. Before that night, I recall a co-worker talking about shrooms and sitting around with her friends and laughing uncontrollably.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. The 'shroom I swallowed might just as well been the same kind of mushroom I ate on pizzas. It had no effect on me whatsoever. NOTHING!!
Sadly enough, that didn't stop Marcia from telling my roommate that I had a serious drug problem. THat was a strange remark especially since I wasn't high, wasn't drunk and took no other types of drugs that night. My biggest regret is not chewing the shroom more thoroughly. May more of it would have found it's way to my bloodstream rather than out my colon. Unlike acid or cocaine, I'm not ruling out taking a 'shroom again. The hope is that if I thoroughly chew it something funnier will happen.
Later, Steve, my roommate, confronted me about my "serious drug problem". Why did he say that? It wasn't because he saw me drunk (he never did); it wasn't because I did many drugs (he didn't see me take anything but alcohol and pot). No, the only reason he confronted me was because of what Marcia told him.
In retrospect, his remarks were ironic to say the least. That very semester, I ended up having the best GPA of my collegiate career (a 3.8 and 7 months later I graduated college with Honors). On the other hand, Steve had average to poor grades that semester nearly flunking out of his Basic Accounting class.
Part 4: TBA
Part 2: Trippin' over the Acid
Slightly less than 20 years ago, I had the good luck to have a fun roommate named Greg who was from the Milwaukee area. We were roommates in LaCrosse, WI going to UW-LaCrosse. Greg was fun because he played guitar, had similar musical interests than I and knew where to get good pot. During the summer, I found a job and was able to stay in town. Greg moved out after the school year, but, as friends, we still saw a lot of each other.
Greg and his laconic friend went to a Grateful Dead concert. He asked me if I wanted any acid. I had to say yes. Ever since 8th grade I wondered what acid would do to a person. I was proud of the fact that Ithaca did an excellent job of educating me on the different types of drugs. Sometimes, you’ll hear some old fart say, "One kind of drug is just as bad as the other." My education showed that was total and complete nonsense. The other reason I thought that my education was excellent was because they made a very important distinction. Certain drugs like alcohol and opoid class drugs (heroin, opium, then Vicodin) are addictive. Other drugs like marijuana and acid were not addictive, but a person could develop a "psychologic dependence" . That’s an important distinction, because these days, "addiction" is one of the most overused words you hear.
I can’t help but recall in 8th grade reading about LSD with some amazement and curiosity. It stunned me that someone could actually get a flashback. I wondered what it would be like to see something that wasn’t really there. Early during my college years, every so often, someone would talk about taking acid. I would "pepper" them with questions about it, because of my curiosity.
Greg came back from the Twin Cities concert with acid. I called him up and told him to come and bring it over. He questioned me as to whether I should take it because it was 10 pm. and the acid would keep me going for 6 hours. I said that’s ok. I figured since I weighed more than Greg, it would probably not last as long for me. Once he came over, he said that this guy was walking around the Grateful Dead concert saying, "Trips! Trips! Anyone want any trips?". The way Greg described it, I always get this image of a guy comparable to the vendor at the the baseball games that shouts, "Get your peeeeeea-nuts!" Anyway, that’s who they bought the LSD from.
Greg gave me a very detailed directions on how to consume LSD (right down to "put it in your mouth"). I guess I was a little slow in those days. Instead of licking the small piece of paper it was on as he recommended, I simply ate the paper so that I would get every bit of acid I paid for. Right after he came over, we also smoked some hash. We listened to Beatles (circa Magical Mystery Tour) and I always thought listening to any John Lennon vocal was the best thing to listen to when one is high. He sounds so compelling! Then we walked over to Greg’s apartment and we saw a tape of either the Grateful Dead concert that Greg and his laconic friend went to or another Dead concert. I remember sitting there in my happy high looking and saying, "That Jerry Garcia looks like a puppy singing!" Just imagine a puppy, your pet or any dog and imagine them up at the microphone singing. Then you know why I had such a shit-eating grin on my face.
So did that mental image come from the hash or the LSD? Who knows?
Anyway, by midnight the hash had most definitely worn off and I was feeling effects of the acid. I recall that things that I imagined seeing/hallucinating weren’t actual visions but things that looked like a negative just taken out of a camera. Or if you ever saw the CD Let It Be...Naked that cover. I saw ribs and images of monkeys as negatives, not really images. I remember laying in bed and rhyming words with nonsense words (EX skeleton, skeletar, skela, etc. ).
Greg was right, and I was wrong. The acid lasted until 5:30 am inspite my attempts to try and sleep it off. My impression is that it was slightly similar to pot, but with the added kick of keeping you going for an extended period of time. I didn’t like the fact that it would not allow me to sleep which made me resolve, as I did later with coke, that I wouldn’t take it again.
I also confessed to the Monsignor in LaCrosse that I took a drug. & he said that it’s a big problem out there and that I should not want to be part of the crowd that is afflicted with that problem. That was the only time I ever confessed to taking a drug. Honestly, I don’t think of smoking marijuana to be a sin.
Anyway, acid was a much more interesting experience than coke, but did not give me the fun times that I’ve had with pot.
Part 3: The ‘shroom that got stuck.
Greg and his laconic friend went to a Grateful Dead concert. He asked me if I wanted any acid. I had to say yes. Ever since 8th grade I wondered what acid would do to a person. I was proud of the fact that Ithaca did an excellent job of educating me on the different types of drugs. Sometimes, you’ll hear some old fart say, "One kind of drug is just as bad as the other." My education showed that was total and complete nonsense. The other reason I thought that my education was excellent was because they made a very important distinction. Certain drugs like alcohol and opoid class drugs (heroin, opium, then Vicodin) are addictive. Other drugs like marijuana and acid were not addictive, but a person could develop a "psychologic dependence" . That’s an important distinction, because these days, "addiction" is one of the most overused words you hear.
I can’t help but recall in 8th grade reading about LSD with some amazement and curiosity. It stunned me that someone could actually get a flashback. I wondered what it would be like to see something that wasn’t really there. Early during my college years, every so often, someone would talk about taking acid. I would "pepper" them with questions about it, because of my curiosity.
Greg came back from the Twin Cities concert with acid. I called him up and told him to come and bring it over. He questioned me as to whether I should take it because it was 10 pm. and the acid would keep me going for 6 hours. I said that’s ok. I figured since I weighed more than Greg, it would probably not last as long for me. Once he came over, he said that this guy was walking around the Grateful Dead concert saying, "Trips! Trips! Anyone want any trips?". The way Greg described it, I always get this image of a guy comparable to the vendor at the the baseball games that shouts, "Get your peeeeeea-nuts!" Anyway, that’s who they bought the LSD from.
Greg gave me a very detailed directions on how to consume LSD (right down to "put it in your mouth"). I guess I was a little slow in those days. Instead of licking the small piece of paper it was on as he recommended, I simply ate the paper so that I would get every bit of acid I paid for. Right after he came over, we also smoked some hash. We listened to Beatles (circa Magical Mystery Tour) and I always thought listening to any John Lennon vocal was the best thing to listen to when one is high. He sounds so compelling! Then we walked over to Greg’s apartment and we saw a tape of either the Grateful Dead concert that Greg and his laconic friend went to or another Dead concert. I remember sitting there in my happy high looking and saying, "That Jerry Garcia looks like a puppy singing!" Just imagine a puppy, your pet or any dog and imagine them up at the microphone singing. Then you know why I had such a shit-eating grin on my face.
So did that mental image come from the hash or the LSD? Who knows?
Anyway, by midnight the hash had most definitely worn off and I was feeling effects of the acid. I recall that things that I imagined seeing/hallucinating weren’t actual visions but things that looked like a negative just taken out of a camera. Or if you ever saw the CD Let It Be...Naked that cover. I saw ribs and images of monkeys as negatives, not really images. I remember laying in bed and rhyming words with nonsense words (EX skeleton, skeletar, skela, etc. ).
Greg was right, and I was wrong. The acid lasted until 5:30 am inspite my attempts to try and sleep it off. My impression is that it was slightly similar to pot, but with the added kick of keeping you going for an extended period of time. I didn’t like the fact that it would not allow me to sleep which made me resolve, as I did later with coke, that I wouldn’t take it again.
I also confessed to the Monsignor in LaCrosse that I took a drug. & he said that it’s a big problem out there and that I should not want to be part of the crowd that is afflicted with that problem. That was the only time I ever confessed to taking a drug. Honestly, I don’t think of smoking marijuana to be a sin.
Anyway, acid was a much more interesting experience than coke, but did not give me the fun times that I’ve had with pot.
Part 3: The ‘shroom that got stuck.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
2nd fiction story, COUNTY FAIR WORK
COUNTY FAIR WORK
At the McHugh County Fair, the pair running the ticket counter were unlikely to be together during routine times. Will was brash, optimistic and just graduated from high school. He would tell anyone who cared to listen that he was enrolling at the University of Chicago in pre-law. After graduating with honors in four years, he was going to attend law school wherever he chose "and be a damn good lawyer like my old man." Sara Dean was a secretary at a real estate firm. She had been typing and taking orders for 25 long years. She was nearing the point of burn out and was cynical and bitter about all that she had been through. Still, she had her pride. For a divorcee pushing 50 with two adult sons, she stayed fit and could still attract men 15 years younger than her.
The pair’s three-hour shift was selling tickets for kids riding the Zipper, Tilt-a-Whirl, Ferris Wheel, and other carnival rides. Enthusiastic children were pulling their tired parents all over the Midway. The non-air-conditioned ticket booth was anything but pleasant with the temperature near 90.
Yet, they both did their job well. The process of selling tickets and making change was a cinch for this strong-willed, intelligent pair. In between they asked a routine question ("How many tickets do you want") and made helpful comments ("A dollar a ticket"; "25 tickets for $20" or "A wristband for rides was only for Saturday").
Through it all, they were able to have a conversation sometimes heated, but surprisingly, at times, empathetic. The conversation was as follows:
Sara: Hi, I’m Sara, and I already know your name, Will, you callow little shit"
Will: I know what "callow means, and you shouldn’t even pretend to know me from a load of hay!
Sara: Oh well, sorry, Will, but hay is not quite as green as you are.
Will: How can you pretend to know me.
Sara: Let’s do a little Q & A, shall we?
Will: Fine!
Sara: Are you going to go to college?
Will: Of course!
Sara: Where at?
Will: University of Chicago.
Sara: What does your father do?
Will: You already know that!
Sara: Ohhhh! Touche, WIIILLLLSSS!
Will: I’m not "Wills"! Wills is a prince in England that gets laid a lot.
Sara: More than you, Will? He shot her a stare as they sold more tickets. After awhile she asked in a more soothing voice: Do you have a girlfriend.
Will: No, see, you don’t know the slightest thing about me!
Sara: (in a husky, low voice) Try me!
Will: What do you know?
Sara: You’re a hard-working 18 year old who graduated with Honors. You never went out for sports____."
Will: (interrupting) Wrong! I was in football all four years. (Turn)
Sara: But you rode the bench, except when you were on the junior varsity team____."
Will: (interrupting again and stating with pride) I intercepted a pass in JV.
Sara: Bravo, Will. Are you going to let me finish??! (After a pause, she continues) You broke up with your girlfriend 1 month___________."
Will: (interrupting) 1 year and how did you know _________."
Sara whistled a surprised pitch and interrupted back: Wow, Will, you don’t know how to keep them! After a long pause and a light of her Virginia Slim, she continued: Will, I dated guys like you 30 years ago! Then, I got a job, had kids, spent more money then I cared to think about, been yelled at, ordered around and told how ugly my sons were. I’ve seen a few things you haven’t, don’t you think??
Will: (subdued) I guess so.
Sara: You were probably voted most likely to succeed, weren’t you.
Will: They don’t vote for things like that anymore.
Sara: You might not be humbled next school year by your English professor, but ___________. "
Will: (interrupting) Maybe by the law professor teaching Contracts five years from now. Hell, Sara, I get cut down to size by my dad on a regular basis.
Sara: Well, that’s not a very nice thing to do to such a hard working, intelligent graduate! (They smiled at each other.) Sara continued: See, I’m not so mean after all!
Will: (murmuring) No, and I guess you know a thing or two about me.
Sara: Why, thanks, Will. After a little more conversation and ticket selling, their shift ended soon after.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
1st Fictional Story
Here is the first fictional story for new blog:
SURPRISE ON A FRIGID MORNING
Joseph woke up to a bitterly cold morning in mid January. Going to work, he took the usual precautions-he wore a pair of boots, his heaviest winter coat and put on his warmest gloves. Since he had no garage, he made sure his exposed car was on for at least a couple minutes before he drove to the train station.
Joe lived in a suburb south of Chicago. The train was very popular in his community, and hundreds from the same town commuted to downtown Chicago and work. The train was so popular that commuters filled the small building where tickets were sold and many were forced to wait for the train outside.
Unfortunately, that is what occurred on this frigid January morning. As he put his gloves to his face to keep warm, he couldn't help but recall growing up in a farm community as a boy. When the weather was cold, his cows would all huddle together tightly so that they touched other cows. Since each cow gave off a good deal of body heat, the concentration of the combined heat warmed all of them up, even on bitterly cold days. Now, Joe observed how each person waiting outside for the train stood by themselves, cold and miserable. For all our intelligence and riches, everyone outside this station was dumber than the cows! Being uptight and conventional, they were unable to take advantage of a primitive method of keeping warm even though they could easily do so!
Joe heard laughing as a man in his mid to late 30s was talking to two very attractive women in their 20s. Since Joe was curious and also desired to be next to someone beautiful, he walked over to this man and women. The man was goofy as he was laughing with the women. He almost resembled a troll, and Joe couldn't understand how these women would give him the time of day, to say nothing of sharing a laugh with him.
To his shock, the man had his hands clenched, but no gloves or mittens. Joe resolved to speak up and said in a friendly way, "It's no fun having no gloves with the temperature being 5 degrees."
"Oh, I'm doing fine," the man said and laughed goofily.
"How can that be?" Joe asked.
"He's got a secret gadget for each hand. Show him!" one of the ladies said.
The man opened his hand; he was carrying a simple 9 volt battery and a penny. "By putting the penny over the terminals, the battery gets warm and the heat protects my hands. With mittens or gloves, you're just retaining heat. This battery generates heat!" he exclaimed proudly before chuckling again.
"He's got it all figured out!" observed one of the women as they all laughed.
Tacitly, Joe could not agree more with her complement although he was far more impressed that this guy could get two beautiful women to laugh since they were normally very quiet and reserved. Maybe it’s true what they say about women: they’re drawn more to personality than looks.
Joe decided to introduce himself to the three of them. He couldn't do wrong being around lovely women and learning some charm from this guy. As he sat with the three on the train ride that morning and also on the following mornings, he was extremely grateful that he departed from his normally taciturn nature and spoke up. The quartet became friends.
(C) 2002
for copying privileges, LEAVE COMMENT
SURPRISE ON A FRIGID MORNING
Joseph woke up to a bitterly cold morning in mid January. Going to work, he took the usual precautions-he wore a pair of boots, his heaviest winter coat and put on his warmest gloves. Since he had no garage, he made sure his exposed car was on for at least a couple minutes before he drove to the train station.
Joe lived in a suburb south of Chicago. The train was very popular in his community, and hundreds from the same town commuted to downtown Chicago and work. The train was so popular that commuters filled the small building where tickets were sold and many were forced to wait for the train outside.
Unfortunately, that is what occurred on this frigid January morning. As he put his gloves to his face to keep warm, he couldn't help but recall growing up in a farm community as a boy. When the weather was cold, his cows would all huddle together tightly so that they touched other cows. Since each cow gave off a good deal of body heat, the concentration of the combined heat warmed all of them up, even on bitterly cold days. Now, Joe observed how each person waiting outside for the train stood by themselves, cold and miserable. For all our intelligence and riches, everyone outside this station was dumber than the cows! Being uptight and conventional, they were unable to take advantage of a primitive method of keeping warm even though they could easily do so!
Joe heard laughing as a man in his mid to late 30s was talking to two very attractive women in their 20s. Since Joe was curious and also desired to be next to someone beautiful, he walked over to this man and women. The man was goofy as he was laughing with the women. He almost resembled a troll, and Joe couldn't understand how these women would give him the time of day, to say nothing of sharing a laugh with him.
To his shock, the man had his hands clenched, but no gloves or mittens. Joe resolved to speak up and said in a friendly way, "It's no fun having no gloves with the temperature being 5 degrees."
"Oh, I'm doing fine," the man said and laughed goofily.
"How can that be?" Joe asked.
"He's got a secret gadget for each hand. Show him!" one of the ladies said.
The man opened his hand; he was carrying a simple 9 volt battery and a penny. "By putting the penny over the terminals, the battery gets warm and the heat protects my hands. With mittens or gloves, you're just retaining heat. This battery generates heat!" he exclaimed proudly before chuckling again.
"He's got it all figured out!" observed one of the women as they all laughed.
Tacitly, Joe could not agree more with her complement although he was far more impressed that this guy could get two beautiful women to laugh since they were normally very quiet and reserved. Maybe it’s true what they say about women: they’re drawn more to personality than looks.
Joe decided to introduce himself to the three of them. He couldn't do wrong being around lovely women and learning some charm from this guy. As he sat with the three on the train ride that morning and also on the following mornings, he was extremely grateful that he departed from his normally taciturn nature and spoke up. The quartet became friends.
(C) 2002
for copying privileges, LEAVE COMMENT
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Why should you read my blogs???
What makes me different than the others? There's probably millions of bloggers out in the Great Cyberspace universe. There are others who have more interesting lives, and there are others who are better, more articulate writers. Why spend time here at this blog site???
OK, here's why:
1. As a paralegal, I write every day and there's a demand and expectation at my law firm that what I write will be grammatically correct. So I spend some time each day writing, and I don't think the reader of my blogs will be subjected to poor grammar. Further, I have a passion for being understood. At the risk of over-explaining, I will write in a cogent manner that will be fairly easy to comprehend.
2. I care about what the reader thinks and will be as responsive as possible and as time permits. If you have something you share, suggest or offer, I'll be happy to hear from you.
3. I will "listen" to your suggestions and if they are valid, helpful suggestions, I will try and follow them.
4. I will try not to be boring. However, "boredom" is very subjective. I have some fun, interesting stories and insights to share. I honestly believe, time permitting, that the reader will enjoy my blogs.
5. Sex will be included as one of the topics.
6. Most of the time, I will try and look at subjects from different points of view. It probably would be more interesting to write an spirited, one-sided screed and do a blog in the same style of Rush Limbaugh's loathsome radio program. (Sorry dittoheads). But, I will usually acknowledge to the reader that I can see things from the opposing view. I am a Democrat, but I used to be a Republican and most of my family is Republicans.
7. It's more important for me to be accurate than it is for me to be fair (although point 6 considers that important too). I will work hard to be accurate and the hope and goal is the subject matter reflects what really happens.
8. Drug use will be a topic appearing occasionally in my blogs.
OK, here's why:
1. As a paralegal, I write every day and there's a demand and expectation at my law firm that what I write will be grammatically correct. So I spend some time each day writing, and I don't think the reader of my blogs will be subjected to poor grammar. Further, I have a passion for being understood. At the risk of over-explaining, I will write in a cogent manner that will be fairly easy to comprehend.
2. I care about what the reader thinks and will be as responsive as possible and as time permits. If you have something you share, suggest or offer, I'll be happy to hear from you.
3. I will "listen" to your suggestions and if they are valid, helpful suggestions, I will try and follow them.
4. I will try not to be boring. However, "boredom" is very subjective. I have some fun, interesting stories and insights to share. I honestly believe, time permitting, that the reader will enjoy my blogs.
5. Sex will be included as one of the topics.
6. Most of the time, I will try and look at subjects from different points of view. It probably would be more interesting to write an spirited, one-sided screed and do a blog in the same style of Rush Limbaugh's loathsome radio program. (Sorry dittoheads). But, I will usually acknowledge to the reader that I can see things from the opposing view. I am a Democrat, but I used to be a Republican and most of my family is Republicans.
7. It's more important for me to be accurate than it is for me to be fair (although point 6 considers that important too). I will work hard to be accurate and the hope and goal is the subject matter reflects what really happens.
8. Drug use will be a topic appearing occasionally in my blogs.
What happened to Vince?
I am starting a blog. I am Vince formerly of Ithaca, WI, and now living in Midlothian, IL. There's more to come later.
I am a paralegal, a cardiac monitor tech, a father of 3 and currently divorced. I would like to become a writer and have written some short stories as a hobby. THe latter is why I am currently blogging.
More to come..............
I am a paralegal, a cardiac monitor tech, a father of 3 and currently divorced. I would like to become a writer and have written some short stories as a hobby. THe latter is why I am currently blogging.
More to come..............
a sad, sad change
less than 3 years ago, I remember how much I loved my job. I would go charging north up Clark ST. in Chicago Loop like a man on a mission.
No more. After some very bitter experiences my whole attitude about my job as a paralegal has changed.
I can't stand my job (a different place than where I previously worked, and, yes, considerably worse too). When I walk that lonely mile to work, I feel like someone who is about to get a painful shot.
Yes, I'm doing more than whining about it. I have been sending out resumes and interviewing, but with no results. My God, how long does this have to go on??
No more. After some very bitter experiences my whole attitude about my job as a paralegal has changed.
I can't stand my job (a different place than where I previously worked, and, yes, considerably worse too). When I walk that lonely mile to work, I feel like someone who is about to get a painful shot.
Yes, I'm doing more than whining about it. I have been sending out resumes and interviewing, but with no results. My God, how long does this have to go on??
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