An Introduction

If you asked my mother she would be the first to tell you that I am just like my father.

My husband reminds me on a daily basis that I am just like my mother.

Basically what that boils down to is I happen to be one of the coolest fucking people I know. I'd have to be given the amazing set of parents I have. Modesty runs rampant in our family. My father will tell you exactly how perfect he is and my mother is quick to point out her strengths as well. Is it any wonder I turned out with an ego the size of Alaska? I suppose it's a good thing I have the awesome personality to support my opinion of myself.

But, you might be wondering who I am or why you should read my blog. I am a 26 year old woman. I am married, work a crappy desk job which I've had for five years (sob), occasionally remember to go to church though am very fond of my religion, avid reader, lover of music, ranter extraordinaire, internet addict and outspoken pain in the ass. My weakness and faults completely outweigh my strengths, but I like being flawed.

I considered given this blog a theme, but my life isn't themed so why should my blog be? Instead I'm going to do my best to make it a part of my daily life. I love my life. I love the people in it (most of the time), the things I do (besides commuting) and the lessons I learn (except when I'm wrong). I want to share all of that with my friends (and mom. Hi, Mom.) so that maybe they can understand a bit more about how I really live.

To start... I want to share a story. It's nothing amazing, but it's so incredibly me that it seems perfect. Last night after spending hours talking to my best friend, Myriam, I dragged myself off to bed. My husband, Greg, was already sound asleep and snoring as he does every. single. night. Some people insist that I'll miss his snoring when/if it's no longer there and I can assure you I won't. As I turned over to cuddle the massive bear that is my husband, I discovered that once again he had drooled on his pillow. You know it's true love when you can ignore the snoring and the drooling. I chastised him as I often do and he insisted he hadn't been the one who drooled all over my new sheets. No, it wasn't Greg.

It was ninjas. Ninjas came into our bedroom, drooled on the pillow and placed it under my husband's head.

He was half asleep and nothing he said made a lick of sense, but it put a smile on my face as I fell asleep. Silly moments like that are what make up my life. And for that I'm incredibly lucky.