Overthinkin'

I'm constantly accused of over thinking. I'm sure if you've known me for any length of time you've heard me bitch about this before. But I'm here to remind those of you who think there's something deliberate to the level of detail over which I consider any given subject, that it's not intentional, it's not something I'm doing TO YOU. It's how my mind works. Please... PLEASE, consider NOT chiding me because it makes you uncomfortable or makes you think I'm trying to manipulate you into thinking about things you don't want to think too hard about. Whatever your issue is with how my mind processes information is not something I have any control over. When you bitch at me about something as fundamental as my mind, it kinda suggests you don't really like me. Worse, is intimates that you'd like me better if I was stupid or dull or worse yet... easier to slip things past. I assure you, that I too have wished my mind would slow down and not notice every tiny detail of every little thing. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes. So now you know why I'm oft so grumpy.

And while we're at it... let's get over this other thing, too; my lack of economy with words.

Yes, I know there's probably a quicker way to say what I have to say. I actually do TRY to give people the short version of whatever it is I have to say. And I tell you now, I admire those of you who get a lot across with an extreme economy of words. But I also consider myself in the process of conversation and communication and frankly, I enjoy communicating the way I do. I don't tell you how to talk or think because if you're my friend then I must like it. If I need more from you I'll ask. If I need less from you, I don't ask. Consider affording me the same courtesy, why don't you?

End rant.

I Made It!!!!!!

Well folks, I made it to 2010. Nobody could be more shocked than me, considering how many experiences I’ve had in the last decade that should have killed me. Breast Cancer scare, falling down a flight of stairs and smacking my head on a wall AND a wood plank when I landed, a slip and fall in a Lucky store, driving through a snow storm on the Grapevine without being able to see more than a foot in front of my window (on the night I moved here), a dismal disaster of a relationship with Ronn that put me in the hospital… I know there were more, too. Those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head!

I can’t say it’s all been fraught with danger. There were some very good times in the last ten years. I’ve fulfilled life-long dreams, and came reasonably close to fulfilling the two biggest (to be a wife and a mother). I did a lot of learning and growing, made some outstanding friends, saw a lot of concerts, performed at a club, did a great job in a show… and yet the last four years have been inundated with so much loss and stress, that it’s been hard to remember the good times.

As I head into 2010, I’m doing everything I can to maintain a good attitude about the decade ahead… my forties. It is my absolute intention to leave all the shit behind me and let it be my past, so I can live in the present and create a happy, content, successful, loving, comfortable and fun future.

So ronery...

The only way I could laugh about feeling lonely today is to think of the scene in Team America where Kim Jong-il is singing about his loneliness (which conversely made me laugh so hard I practically fell out of my seat).

At any rate... I'm so ronery, a rittle ronery, poor rittle me.

I'm So Ronery
So ronery
So ronery and sadry arone
There's no one
Just me onry
Sitting on my rittle throne
I work rearry hard and make up great prans
But nobody ristens, no one understands
Seems like no one takes me serirousry
And so I'm ronery
A rittle ronery
Poor rittle me

There's nobody I can rerate to
Feel rike a bird in a cage
It's kinda sihry
But not rearry
Because it's fihring my body with rage

I'm the smartest most crever most physicarry fit
But nobody else seems to rearize it
When I change the world maybe they'll notice me
But until then I'rr just be ronery
Rittle ronery, poor rittle me

I'm so ronery

A Day of Achey Breaky

Today I decided to let Fountains of Wayne keep me company while sorting through the seemingly never-ending mountain of Holiday purchase orders. I have a lot of profoundly happy memories associated with FOW. It doesn't hurt that their songs are largely bouncy, funny, soothing and pleasant as it makes them easy to place into the soundtrack of practically anything.

Sadly, thanks to another SUPRISE, YOU'RE NOT DONE MOURNING box from San Jose, I am in a place of feeling loss, so as I scroll through my options of what to listen to on my iPod, I keep stumbling upon music connected to disappointment and loss. So, as fun as FOW is (and honey, they are!), today they're reminding me of a friend that found them through me... a friend that I lost not long after.

Donaco and I used to be inseperable. When we were friends, nary a day went by that we didn't call one another at least twice and more often than not one of us made the other laugh. We vacationed together, we dined together, we collaborated, we consoled one another, we put on a show together then something snapped. To this day I don't know what it was. Maybe it was just... we were heading in different directions. Maybe it was that one of us was hurting, pissing off or generally vexing the other all along and it took five years to get up the gumption to say so (even if it was at the worst possible moment). But what once was a supportive, uplifting, mutually beneficial vibe became one of a cranky married couple. Neither one of us felt we were at fault. I suspect, it's still true today. It doesn't matter. Sometimes we say things to one another that can't get taken back, begin dynamics with someone that we can't change and it all has to come to an end.

As I listen to Mexican Wine, vivid memories of Donaco and I speeding home from one of our many adventures in Las Vegas are tripping through my mind. I miss that time of our friendship. I miss the time when we behaved like our friendship was something valuable and seemed never-ending. I try, as much as possible, to think of my lost friend fondly and always hope he's happy and well. I can only hope he does the same. Based on what began our end... I highly doubt it.

Guilty Pleasures

I'm a foodie. Ain't no secret there. More often than not I fantasize about blowing up every fast food franchise known to man and, like so much Harold Hill, ushering the masses back to a world of freshly prepared foods, bursting with deliciousness.

That said, like all foodies (and thanks to Anthony Bourdain having done admitted as much before me), we all have guilty pleasures that fly in the face of our persnickety need for culinary excellence. Today, I had a couple slices of one of mine...

Round Table Pizza's Hawaiian Pizza. I don't remember when I started liking this monstrosity, don't know why I would have even tried it (since the concept of pineapple and ham pizza still revolts me intellectually), but somehow it snuck it's way into my gaping yaw and became one of my favorite indulgences.

A liiiiiiiittle on the undercooked side today, but whatever. It still hit the spot.

What's culinary guilty pleasure?

Coming back into focus

It's been a while since I've written, I know. To say that I've had bigger fish to fry would be an understatement. Mourning the loss of a beloved Aunt, my mother and any semblance of hope I once had that my family might regain its' composure was rough. Dealing with some rather upsetting health issues didn't help much. Moving on past a short but gravely disappointing romance and doing all those things while learning not one, but two new jobs (since my new job changed into something far more daunting than the first), has certainly pulled a bit of focus. Also, to be frank, I didn't want the dark cloud of sadness and resentment and anger to hover so ominously any more. You and I, my friends and readers, have more interesting things to discuss than mean people.

So, I'm not gone, not lost and am doing some writing. Mostly, that writing energy is being spent on a book I have wanted to write for over a decade. I have had a lot of support about doing it so, I certainly don't want that support to be wasted.

Thank you, to the folks who have written and asked what's going on. It's always good to hear from you! In many respects I am better than I have been for three years. It is, however, going to take some time to repair the damage those years did to my life.

Expect more here, soon.

Back in Lawyerland Again

I used to work with attorneys, so it's not as though I am not used to legal business. But now that I'm finding myself dealing with them for personal reasons, it's a whole different ballgame. There are times when you just have to be glad that some lawyers are ruthless. Love 'em or hate 'em, sometimes, you need 'em and need 'em I do.

I never imagined, in my wildest dreams that I would need legal representation for the reason I do now. It's sad, it's disgusting but it's unfortunately reality. I have been bullied, I have been abused and now I am being robbed. Rolling over is not an option. Talking didn't help, so what else would be next? I will exhaust every reasonable and legal avenue possible before I give up that which is being taken from me.

Who knows? I may not have a case. They may have done such a good job of rationalizing their actions, such a good job of manipulating their situation, that I may get nothing. Then again, I may (considering the obvious duplicitous dealings of those involved, who stood to gain so much from those dealings). All I can say is, I wish I didn't have to do any of this. But my hand has been forced and so it's off to Lawyerland I go. Thank God my new job comes with a low-cost legal counsel benefit! Since I'm being screwed out of so much, I'm going to need every break I can get!

I'm fortunate to have such good friends, who love and support me and have encouraged me to fight for what is mine. I would have done it either way, but they give me the strength I need for a battle I never wanted, and never expected to have to fight.

I See You

Like a lot of people, I have trackers on my blogs to see who is coming to visit, how often, where they linked off of, where they are… all kinds of information. I know when my MySpace friends are checking my blogs, when my close friends are, when someone landed on my page through a Google search or came through my Twitter. So I know that one particular household is checking my blogs every single day, sometimes twice a day or more and I'm not sure what to say to this person. So I guess all I can say is that I have not stopped being accessible via the phone. I have spoken to you whenever you called. If there's something you want to know about me, call because it looks as though you either don't think you can or you are looking for ammunition against me. Maybe there's some other reason you come here that I can't imagine, but considering how things have been lately, those are the only two I can come up with.

So if you're waiting for me to put out some shitty blog about you, don't. I won't. If you're hoping I'll say something about being open to talking, I always have been with the exception of a couple days I requested you leave me alone (and I wouldn't have asked for that if you had been open to talking to ME at the time). If you're looking for validation for treating me so badly, you won't find it here. There is no justification for it. Whatever your agenda is, this is kind of creeping me out, so I wish you would stop this. But I know I can't stop you so, I just thought you should know all of this so you can choose to spend your time more constructively.

Letter to 2008

Dear 2008,

I had hoped that by asking nicely enough, you would be kind and oblige me with a good year, thus mending our torn relationship and sending us on the road to peace.  But nooooooo.  You had to have everything your way, didn't you?  You've managed to hit me in virtually every sore spot imaginable, 2008.  I'm at a loss as to understand how I am still standing after such an onslaught but, HA!  IN YOUR FACE!  I am!  

Come on now, let it go.  Whatever grudge you've got against me, just let it the hell go already, because I'm not going to give up.  You're going to have to pray a bus hits me and kills me, because you're not taking me down.  Not ever. So enough money bullshit, enough death and illness, enough loss, enough struggle, enough, enough, ENOUGH!

Truly,

Sunny

They Say It's Wonderful

Not long after my last post, I reconnected with someone I've been attracted to for about nine years. At the time I initially found myself attracted to him, I had no idea he was someone I'd known when I was a teenager, and he'd tormented me regularly at that time (which I kind of find charming now that he's clearly not the meany I figured him to be). We didn't recognize one another as older people. I guess that's a good thing. It afforded us the shock and surprise necessary for a long overdo apology from him and a pathway to friendship.

So here we are, nine years later, 45 days into the official beginning of the romantic relationship that sprang from our most recent reconnection (I only know that because I have a snazzy counter for us on my MySpace) and I am starting to wonder... is it me or shouldn't this be the fun part?

In all fairness, the less-than-funness starts with the fact that we are on opposite coasts (he in North Carolina, I in California). Once he came out and visited, and we knew it wasn't our imagination that we were in love with each other, it just got harder for us to be apart. But where we once communicated easily, now we seem to barely be able to understand one another and struggle regularly.

I keep thinking, "Shit, this should be the time when we're happy, when everything's great, not the time for endless negotiations of whose baggage is more heavy and needs to be carried by both of us, as a couple. We shouldn't be arguing over where to be together, but just be happy that we found someone we want to be with." But it's just not that easy and the reason I wonder if it's me, is because I find myself unable to deal with the strife. I find myself wanting to hide away, cut myself off from more of it, even if it means losing someone I truly love.

See, I'm not prepared to deal with the fact that there are so many girls out there who are unable to be respectful of a relationship. I'm lacking the capacity to understand why I tell someone nothing but the truth and am still not trusted. I don't seem to be able to grasp the concept of why asking questions equates accusations. And I get the idea that maybe it's because I've been really choosy (with one glaring exception) of who I get this close to and haven't had the requisite practice. Maybe I just don't get how relationships work. Maybe they're supposed to be chock-o-block with drama, endless arguments about indiscreet flirtations from others and whose feelings are more important than the others' at any given time.

Maybe it's just that we're not right for one another. But I don't want to think that and even less believe it. I just think that alot of painful experiences have led us to this dischord. Both of us want so badly to overcome it, but we can't seem to approach it from the same direction. One wants resolution the other wants to win at all costs and at the end of the day we want to love all the stuff about each other that made us fall in the first place and be able to casually ignore the rest so that we can just have peace. It just doesn't work that way, I guess.

All I can say is that we're not bad people. We're not mean people. We want to work on it and I think that's a good thing... for now. We love each other. We want each other. I just hope that's enough to overcome all this bullshit. Hope and pray, I do.

"They say that falling in love is wonderful It's wonderful, so they say.
And with a moon up above it's wonderful It's wonderful, so they tell me.
I can't recall who said it
I know I never read it
I only know that falling in love is grand
And the thing that's known as romance
Is wonderful in every way... So they say "

I Will Survive?

I certainly hope I'll survive. It doesn't feel like I will. Having a lot of confidence in myself and my abilities does me no good when nobody will call me for an interview; when I apply for countless positions, for which I am ridiculously and perfectly qualified, and my phone doesn't ring. My confidence that finding work, with my level of skill and experience has proved to be... well... pointless, in the face of the current situation.

I am filled with despair. Every day. Where once I enjoyed taking responsibility for my life, I find myself wishing to intrench my head in the sand or find a more permanent escape from my inability to help myself. But I am still intellectually aware enough to remind myself that things can get better. They usually do eventually, even if for a little while. I just happen to fear that this time, I am wrong about that. It feels that way all the time, and the way things have been going (particularly with the EDD and State of California), I am right to worry.

I'm trying, friends. I just don't know how much longer I can hold on.

Aaaah Clint

drifter
Originally uploaded by Sunny-bunny

Once upon a time, I wasn't a big fan of the Clint Eastwood westerns. Perhaps it was because I didn't really understand them when I was younger and mistakenly preferred more sensitive types in my late teens and early twenties. Whatever the case, I sure as hell didn't see what everyone else was all keyed up about when it came to these films (although admittedly, always appreciated the rich and interesting cinematography).

So not long ago, realizing how my opinions and tastes and preferences have changed over the years, I decided to put High Plains Drifter in my Netflix queue and see what all the fuss was about.

I'm not going to tell you that on some level I wasn't just a bit alarmed at how Eastwood's character "the stranger" managed to kill off three men and rape a woman inside of the first fifteen minutes of the film. And I'm not even going to get into the freakish absurdity that the woman he raped (a firecracker named Callie) alternately enjoyed being raped and tried to kill him for it. I get the subtext they were going for in a big way. I don't agree on principle, but I get it.

I love the idea of a mysterious man who doesn't have to explain himself to anyone. Who takes what he wants, does what he wishes, and shows no remorse or hesistation about either. Again, I love the idea. But if I ran across such a man in real life, I would find him repugnant, no matter how attractive. God knows, I've run across plenty of assholes close enough to know. So I think it's great that the women in the film aren't just taken by him. They hate him for it. Amazing.

There's a lot of funny shit in this movie, too. I laughed out loud. And although I used to think Clint was a bit grizzly in this era of his career, if I were going to see these films in the theater now... he would be to me, what Christian Bale and Brad Pitt are to others.

I am officially converted... time to go update my Netflix queue, fix some drinks, light some candles and have some quiet time with Clint so I can love him and hate him without all the bullshit of real life. Turns out I have a fantasy life after all.

Note to the IRS

Dear IRS,

I know you and I have not been on good terms in the past. We've disagreed and hurt one another. But hopefully you and I have overcome our differences and patched up the gaping holes in our once taciturn relationship.

That said, I would like to ask you to please, please, please send my refund and stimulus check now. Your "Where's My Refund" site doesn't seem to recognize that I ever even sent my return. That worries me... a lot. I promise, I sent in my return on the 15th.

So please... can I have my money? I would super duper appreciate it.

Your pal,
Sunny

Letter to my Friends

Dear Friends,

You must surely believe, by now, that I am the hardest person to help... like... ever. You'd probably like to elevate me sometimes, without having to dip into your finances (because let's face it, it's not easy for me to pay money back and who the hell has extra money lying around anyhow), and find that words just never seem to be enough. Why? Because I've probably already hit upon the suggestion you are about to put forth during one of my now-legendary over-thinking sessions, and will only infuriate you by having a perfectly rational reason / answer as to why that idea won't or might not work.

I don't blame you at all for not even asserting an idea when you have them. I'd be furious, too. Really! I would! This is the main reason why, despite countless suggestions that I do so, I could never be a therapist.

The thing is, and I really want you all to understand this with complete and utter clarity... I do listen. I may have a response and one that suggests your idea won't work. So what? I will still listen to you. And sometimes, when we talk things out, I hear something new, hit on something different because you think just differently enough from me to have worded your thought in such a way that presents things in a whole new light. I may also not always get, right away, where you were headed because I'm scared A LOT lately and it's hard to hear over the din of terror on my head. The "whatamIgonnado?!?!?!?" that plays on an endless loop in my over-crowded brain.

But late at night, or driving to the bank or while eating a sandwich or showering (I do a lot of serious thinking in the shower - not so much while eating sandwiches, really, but you get my point ) I'll remember what you said. I'll think about what you've suggested or informed me of or an email you sent and reconsider my reaction. I do. I really, really do. Hell, I still hear suggestions LFS made to me when we were 16, about how I might look at a situation, that inform positive actions I make to this day. I listen to music I may not have liked 20 years ago to see if I do now (and often times, oddly enough, I find that maybe I didn't have the emotional or intellectual depth to have enjoyed it before but do now). I try foods I didn't like before to see if my tastes have changed. And in the same way, I will mull over your advice, your critiques, your voiced experiences and reconsider them anew all the time. I become a better, happier, more well rounded person for it, and so I always will. As long as I call you friend, your opinions and thoughts matter deeply to me.

So please, just because you don't get the instant agreement during a conversation, doesn't mean you haven't effected change. You don't expect instant approval or success on everything of importance in your life, so try to apply the same amount of patience here. I will do my very best to do the same for you because seriously, you don't have to tell me... I know I've been the SUCK about that. And to illustrate my point, rethinking things I've said to YOU, is what lead me to realize that I need to cut you all some slack.

As long as we are friends, I will never, ever, EVER give up on you. Please don't give up on me.

I'm sorry I piss you off. Thanks for sticking around and trying to help. I genuinely, truly, madly, deeply appreciate it. Every word.


Love,

Sunny

A Little Stressed Out

Lately I've been having a little trouble staying awake. That is when I'm not having trouble getting to sleep. I've also been having a little trouble expressing myself (hence my penchant for Twittering over emails and blogs these days). The other night, while having dinner with a friend, I had so much trouble stringing a cognitive sentence together I wanted to jab my fork into my head in frustration. She thought it was funny. I guess, when one is used to being zinged with my heat-seeking, cut-through-the-bullshit conversational style, it would be a little funny to watch me stammer through the most innocuous conversation. To me, however, inability to communicate properly is far more upsetting than it would be if I say, had pneumonia. Believe me, I've had pneumonia... I prefer it to being unable to get my fucking self across.

I got the idea that maybe I was suffering symptoms of an illness. Being fat, I immediately checked the symptoms of diabetes. Oddly enough, I don't suffer any of them, with the exception of extreme irritability and let's face it... I've got good reason to be a bit cranky of late. So I looked further. I thought, "I wonder what the symptoms of stress are." And there it was, in black and white, staring me in the face... virtually everything that is wrong with me these days.


Memory problems
Indecisiveness
Inability to concentrate
Trouble thinking clearly
Poor judgment
Seeing only the negative
Anxious or racing thoughts
Constant worrying
Loss of objectivity
Fearful anticipation
Moodiness
Agitation
Restlessness
Short temper
Irritability, impatience
Inability to relax
Feeling tense and “on edge”
Feeling overwhelmed
Sense of loneliness and isolation
Depression or general unhappiness
Headaches or backaches
Muscle tension and stiffness
Diarrhea or constipation
Nausea, dizziness
Insomnia
Chest pain, rapid heartbeat
Weight gain or loss
Skin breakouts (hives, eczema)
Loss of sex drive
Frequent colds
Eating more or less
Sleeping too much or too little
Isolating yourself from others
Procrastination, neglecting responsibilities
Using alcohol, cigarettes, or drugs to relax
Nervous habits (e.g. nail biting, pacing)
Teeth grinding or jaw clenching
Overdoing activities (e.g. exercising, shopping)
Overreacting to unexpected problems
Picking fights with others

I can tell you right now, that I can still see some positive. Some. Not much. And I don't think I've had a cold recently. That's about it. Everything else... EVERYTHING ELSE applies. Too bad the only cure is not being me.

We all deal with shit, we all deal with stress to some degree. I don't think I'm special or unique because I am in this place. I just don't have a way to undo it. That's frustrating. In fact, it's stressful.

I hope you're doing far better, feeling much happier, laughing and living and enjoying life. I'll get back there eventually. But please excuse me if, for now, I don't have a whole lot of sunshine to spread.

A letter to Sunny

Dear Sunny,

I know it seems, sometimes, like there will be no end to the insane amount of struggling. You search endlessly for the key to how to undo the cycle of craziness and every time it seems you've done everything you were told to do, everything everyone said you should do, you seem only to get into a more ludicrously painful predicament. I see how hard you try and wish there was something I could tell you, some words of comfort, some wisdom to impart, but I am at a loss.

It would be easy to feed you some tired cliche' like, "This, too, shall pass" or "It'll get better, you'll see", but you already know those things. You're a smart cookie. You get that it cannot go on like this indefinitely, and probably won't. I also know it won't help to remind you that you're not alone. I know that it pisses you off when people expect a guilt trip to keep you from worrying about real shit going down in your life. Especially because it implies that you don't give a shit about anything but your own problems and anyone who knows you knows that's totally untrue of you.

I can certainly see why you're scared right now. Two years of feeling lost, career wise, is pretty scary. Just when it seems like you have it figured out, some new catastrophe sweeps in like a hurricane, and undoes all your work. And at times it must feel like you're going to lose everything. I wish you had someone "on the inside" there to help you. Someone who could give you a reassuringly tender hug or hold your hand when you feel like you're falling a bit too fast. But wishing won't make it so. So you have to stay strong. You have to keep going. I know you're tired and sometimes think it would be easier if you could just sleep through the whole mess. But that only works when someone else is doing the work and they are not. Even the agencies and institutions whose employees are paid with your taxes and monthly fees are disinterested in doing anything to help you. So you are going to have to help yourself, whether you like it or not.

You can do it, Sunny. You can turn all of this around and live your life without all this fear and worry. The key is there. It's probably right under your nose. Breathe deeply, quiet your fears and maybe you'll see it... glistening in the sunlight... ready to unlock the door to your happiness.

Stay strong! I love you!


Sunny

Letter to Girl At Trader Joes

Ooh NO!
Originally uploaded by Sunny-bunny

Dear Butt floss flasher,

As CB and I were entering Trader Joes, one night last month, we not only noticed you flashing your crack at us, we literally couldn't avoid seeing it. This photo we stealthily snapped, depicts a more reasonable version of what you were flashing about. If we weren't in a hurry, I may have pulled you over to let you know how bad this really was. Then again, you didn't really seem to care. It was, after all, February, rainy, cold and one imagines you would have felt... well... a draft.

Now honey, I feel your pain. I, too, have a gigantic ass and have a difficult time finding jeans that cover the whole expanse. Also, like you, I tend to like some of my clothes to be a bit more on the snug side. I'm sure that when I have resentfully worn my low-rise jeans, I have given people an eyeful of my black granny underwear, but honestly... this was just gross. Your ass crack was visible through your see-thru thong.

Hold on a minute... some dinner just came up...

I blame your friends, crackshow. Surely one of them, by now, could have told you how bad this looks. Shame on them! Perhaps you should be shopping for better buddies, instead of parading your poopshoot at TJs.

Best of luck with the cold you surely must have caught that night from exposure, and I hope that should you decide to wear these pants again, that I am spared the sight.

Nausiated,
Sunny

I Am A Pirate Now

My Pirate alter ego
Originally uploaded by Sunny-bunny

Well, I think we all knew this day was coming. I have finally succumbed to piracy. Luckily, my marauding is safe within the confines of Disney-fied online game playing, or I think we all know that the bloodshed would be innumerable.

This is Rowena. She's my vision of me as a pirate. Yup... she's thin. Fact is, you do so much "running" in this game there's no way she wouldn't be if she were real. I could have chosen for her to be fat. I like that I had the option. But you don't really see a whole lot of them running around in game. I guess when it comes to role playing, one doesn't usually choose to be oneself in game.

She's got big tits. That was not my choice. You cannot make the chests smaller on the female pirates. Interesting, don't you think? I mean, if we're going to customize, shouldn't we be able to have a flat chested pirate lady?

Whatever... creating her was fun, and she's got a lot of boys who like helping her. That's fun. They may not be boys in real life. That's fun, too. Some of them might be 10 years old, and some of them might be 40. Also... as I've mentioned before... fun. It doesn't really matter to me.

Here's what I like... no blood. I know, I've gone soft but there it is. It's not a bloody game. I also enjoy the fact that players can't hurt one another really. I've never enjoyed PVP (player versus player) and I suspect that if it were really an option here, that I would like it a heck of a lot less.

Something that tickles my fancy... sailing. I love getting my little ships (a sloop, a light frigate and a galleon) out on the sea, shooting my canons and sinking ships. Sometimes I get sunk, and that's okay too. It's actually affordable to get your ship fixed, particularly if you're prolific about plundering.

I needed something to take my mind off of how stressful things had gotten. This has been perfect, and it keeps me from going to try to do this stuff in real life. Not plundering, mind you, but dressing up like a pirate. Because that was dangerously near to happening.

Whew... what a relief!

Steph

Candid
Originally uploaded by martianspygirl

I miss her.

On WooWoo

Self Portrait *Originally uploaded by Woox2

Kindred Spirit
Curvaceous cooky-britches
Dangerous mind
Fellow food-a-holic
Infectious
Fun

Thanks for coming out of the woodwork, crazy lady!