My Curious Bedfellows

The curious things about British law!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Mon, 13 Nov 2006 22:02:36 +0000

Two stories on the news tonight.

Number One - A group of prisoners settled out of court today. They charged the Prison Service with something like ABH (Actual Bodily Harm), for making them give up Heroin when they were sent to jail.

Number Two - A 75 year old man was sent to prison today because he refused to pay part of his Council Tax as he is a pensioner and felt the amount he was charged was unfair for the council services he received.

So, the lawyers get their money - but is justice really done?

You decide.

Why do companies screw the elderly?

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Fri, 03 Nov 2006 23:15:34 +0000

I am getting really pissed off with companies who target the older generation, (to whence I am heading fast - but fighting!), with their 'caring, softly, kindly' approach. What do I mean? "Well, you obviously don't spend enough money on your grandchildren, so why not re-mortgage your home?" - yes, the one that you worked for all your lives - to pay extortionate interest and end up only having a small fraction of the value when you eventually pass away!

Hey! You don't even need to sell part of your home. Go to the 'caring' company that will give you a loan - even though you are retired! OK, you will be charged around 10-20% more than anyone under 60 looking for a loan but, here's the money for you! .. .It's frightening.

So, there has to be something personal here too, to make me write about this. My mother-in-law, (aged 81) - with the same comany twice this sort of thing has happened. She has had two letters from BT to say that her line will be taken over from them to the Post Office Telephone supplier. She has no recollection of having signed up to change her supplier. If you are old enough to remember in the 80's, (I think), the Post Office Telecoms was privatised into British Telecom (BT). Maybe this is the confusion?

Now, having spoken to a Post Office Telecoms salesperson whom shall remain nameless, I am led to believe that this is 'known' to happen! Is this right?? They use the 'We are the original 'Post Office Telephones, so you are just signing back to that'. What 'Sharp Practice' is that??

OK. Different kinda post from me but, particularly if you are in the UK - and maybe this is just a Glasgow problem, make sure your older relatives know there are big neggies to watch out for.

PS. If any of my family a generation older than me are reading this, please spend all your money - have fun - and do whatever you have always wanted to do!! It's the enjoying it that makes the 'making it' most important!! And, indeed, makes us the most happy too!

'Is this 'Intellectual Wnking ... or not???? (ps. the is an 'a'!!)

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 23:12:00 +0000

When I worked, some 10 years ago, the corporate lingo always started with the first two fingers of each hand making a quotes symbol. The 'in vogue' terms that came from the likes of the Marketing Department or PR were "Vanilla Product" (meaning 'starting point'), or "Soup to Nuts" (meaning you got the whole freaking job done and then deliver to the customer what they were expecting!). Hardly 'Rocket Science' - (don't know what the what the Marketing or PR called that!!) So today I think all of my hatred of anything like this is due to the fact that I am so far away from it I can see how pathetic it is. Thankfully the two fingers of each hand symbol has become outdated - now we simply use one hand and turn the fingers around!!

My 'Man of Many Contradictions' has recently got a new Job Title, (as opposed to a new job!). What does he do? Well I hate when people ask me that, because quite frankly I don't understand his job. He works for a major telecommunications company, and makes deals happen between his company and other companies/corparations, and his customers are in the financial institutions. Is that not a major dinner-party conversation stopper?!?! Anyway the thing that makes me believe that I could never work for a company like my MOMC works for is his new 'job title' ... Wait for it ..... He is now called a "Rain-Maker".

Pause ... Read it again ... Yes that was correct what you read!! "Rain-Maker"!!

(I think I will need to re-read the John Grisham novel to understand the meaning).

The best one I heard today though, was how the police are treating politically correctness by changing their wording of certain processes. Apparently if you are "Brain-Storming" you are being cruel to sufferers of epilepsy! Now you need to say "I am Thought-Showering". I kid you not!! Well, I am so 'Showered with Thought' just now, that I think I have to finish this post. Are there any more examples out there? I would love to hear them!!

Dealing with depression

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Wed, 11 Oct 2006 18:26:00 +0000

Most people that know me - even those who know me quite well - don't know how hard I struggle against depression.

Outwardly, most of the time, I am super-confident. I think I am perceived as someone you can rely on, you can tell your troubles to. I try to embrace everyones' problems and look at the solutions they may have open to them. I just wish I could sort out my own issues. Isn't that it though? You see anothers' problems from a distance and therefore the solutions seem much clearer. You do not share the same distractions.

But, there lies the question for me. Why do I suffer from depression? I have a lovely home, an amazingly supportive and loving husband, two amazing and gorgeous children, fantastic friends and a life totally untouched by tragedy or infamy, or anything that would lead a person to have a reason to be depressed.

When I was 13 I was prescribed Valium. This was due to me turning up at the Nurses' Station at school, practically daily, crying my heart out. Did I crave attention? I honestly do not know. From a very early age, perhaps 6 or 7, I was convinced I was going to die. I really thought that my parents, (particularly my Mum) were trying to poison me. I would imagine that she was putting poison into my food that she had hidden in her cardigan sleeve!! I love her so much that I could never, ever discuss this with her. This is totally my problem and has nothing to do with her. She, (and my Dad), were completely loving and caring for me. I adopted what I now know as 'obsessive, compulsive' behaviour' to combat these feelings.

I was a 'surprise' to my Mum and Dad. Mum was 42 and Dad 48 when I was born. They both thought that Mum was going through the 'change'. I have a 'big brother' who is 15 years my senior. He reacted really badly to the pregnacy - and who can blame him? Thinking at any age that your parents fornicate! He went to University in another city when I was 5 and then emigrated to New Zealand when I was about 10, so I have never really known him like you would expect to know a sibling. Also, I can totally understand how - in the early '60's when I was born, options for pregnancies, (ie terminations etc), were far fewer than they are now.

My OCD was really debilitating and, when caught, was extremely embarrasing. We lived in a house with a staircase up the middle. At the top you took a step up on the right to get to my parents' bedroom, and a step up on the left to get to the bathroom and my bedroom. (If you kinda think of the Coronation Street, 'two-up, two-down, back-to-back' terraced houses, you are just about there). I could not go to the bathroom or to bed without doing the correct sequence of stepping up and down the stairs at the top. If I got the sequence wrong, I would have to start again. I have no idea what my parents' thought I was doing!

When I had Big Cub, (so I'm talking less than 10 years ago), I couldn't hang out a washing where his pyjamas were the first on the line. I just knew he would become very poorly if I did that. As with dealing with my problem as a child, I had to force myself to try not to succumb to my irrational fears of the consequences of me doing something. It was (and still is at times), very difficult to do this.

The strange thing is, when I have had need to speak to professionals about my depression, I have never mentioned my OCD. I suppose this is because I have always felt it was wrong - even 'mad' , (whatever 'madness' is). I always have felt the need to come across as "No, no - I'm fine!". Why? I do not know. Writing this has been probably the most difficult and heart-wrenching thing I have ever done. If it speaks to you and helps - it will have been worth the pain.

My recurring dreams ..

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Wed, 04 Oct 2006 20:26:28 +0000

I have a couple of constantly recurring dreams. Does anyone out there know how to decipher them, I wonder?

In the past, I had various dreams on the theme that I had to make a really important telephone call, and I could never get the phone to dial the correct number. This started when I was a teenager. We didn't have a phone in the house until I was 16, so I always used public phone boxes. (In fact I remember myself and a few friends used to call the operator and say that we had put our money in and not got put through in the hope that we would get free phone calls. This stopped one night when the operator kept us on the line and the police arrived. Was that not a way to show you how fast 5 teenagers can run?!?!)

More recently though I have a constant dream. It is all about me being in a hotel and needing to catch a flight. The problem is that I have so many clothes in cupboards, wardrobes, all over the bed etc., and I do not have time to pack them to catch the flight. Sometimes it can be that I am staying in a house that I'm renting and I not only can't pack my clothes, but also I need to clean and tidy the house. Again, there is no time left to do it all. I don't believe that I have very many clothes in reality, nor am I particularly a 'clothes' person. I would always leave an apartment/holiday home etc as clean and tidy as I could. I have even been known to buy cleaning materials to make sure I leave a place at least as good, if not better, than it was when we arrived.

Finally, there is my last recurring dream. It always involves the sea, or rather the tides of the sea, coming in so fast. There are massive waves breaching the sea wall and onto the pavements. Sometimes, in my dream, I have to shelter in doorways to stop being swept out. Sometimes I have to get back along the road I came from, but it could be washed over by the seawater. Most times it isn't actually, but I have to keep going back to check that it is still ok.

So there are my weird dreams. I would love someone to either understand/relate/decipher them. I can see for myself what they 'could'(?!?) mean, but would really appreciate a different view.Anyone got any ideas?

I am a crap blogger!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Tue, 03 Oct 2006 18:53:26 +0000

So sorry to all (both!) my readers that I haven't posted in ages. I could give the reason (I believe in reasons, not excuses), that I am trying to do all the groundwork to start a business. It involves migrating to Linux, of which I knew nothing - a lot of programming language, of which I knew very little - and knowing that with a lot of work, and a little luck(!) we could have quite an amazing product. I have so much thanks to my guru, Koan, for continuing to guide me through a quite severe learning curve, but we are getting there. In the spirit of Linux, when I get to a point where I can post something meaningful about what I am doing, I will post here.

I should still have posted though. I guess I am a fairly typical newbie - 'What on earth could I say of any interest to other people?'. Well, that's just it about blogging. You can talk about anything and there may be something that you write that seems like a small significance to you, but could have a real change or re-affirmation to someone else. Am I making this too big?

I hope not, I have 'met' people through blogging who have amazing lives - so different from the life I live, but it is what they experience that is so fascinating! They give such an insight into a world that I could never, ever know, but one on which I can be educated and expand my knowledge and question what I think I know.

So there you go. Am I talking to blog readers? ... No I think I am talking to myself actually!! I am just going to post stuff here, ideas, thoughts, personal experience, life experiences and probably more than a little about my past. I hope I can write it - and most of all, I hope it is worth reading!

There I go - wondering if it's all worth it ....!

Talking Tittie #2

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Sun, 27 Aug 2006 12:49:00 +0000

I talked before about my special friend Koan and I going to see a consultant about her breast augmentation. Well she had the operation yesterday and today she is home with big bazoomas! She is a bit uncomfortable but far more mobile that either she or I thought she would be.

I was amazed at how fast everything happened. I took her to the hospital at 12 noon and we were told that the operation would be 1.30 -2.00pm. We sat and chatted about fast turnaround operations. She had a tendon fixed in her finger within a couple of hours when she was 17. My story was a bit quicker on the 'well, let's get on with it' clock.

After I had 'Little Beaver' my 'Man of Many Contradictions' and I discussed contraception. He was willing to have the 'snip' but, since I always live by the belief that you never know what is around the corner and men remain fertile - like forever - it might be something he regretted in the future. So I decided to have a coil fitted.

I went to the Family Planning Clinic and got an appointment for that afternoon. Upon arriving I saw the Nurse and she explained everything. 'OK' I said, 'when?' 'NOW!' was the reply. Then she said 'We have a Student Doctor here today, would you mind if they attended at your appointment?' Well, having given birth to two children when I was so distracted that I would not have minded the car park attendant in the room - trust me all dignity goes out the window when you give birth! So I said 'No problem'. It was summer so I had on a short denim dress and was told all I needed to do was take my pants off and lie on the bed with my knees apart.

In came the female Doctor along with a boy student who looked about 19 to me. Hey-ho I felt! Well - here I am, let's go for it. The coil was fitted with lots of medical references to my 'flower', my 'tubes' and whatever I have between my 'lady' and my reproductive bits.

So this young man had looked at my parts for about 5 minutes. The coil was fitted. The Doctor opened the curtains to give me all the information I needed about follow up appointments. My problem was - I hadn't had the chance to put my pants back on!! This young man had stared up my 'fud' for at least 5 minutes - but I could not put my knickers on in front of him - how weird is that?!!? I wondered about just sneaking them into my handbag but guessed I would be found out.

I had to ask 'Do you mind if I close the curtain to put my pants back on?' I felt like a one night stand being told that the steady girlfriend was arriving shortly. The poor young Student Doctor started a nervous laugh and then tried to contain it - which made it even worse. I have never been more embarrassed in my life. But it was the fastest medical procedure turnaround I have ever experienced!!

A little bit morbid - but thoughts from today

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Tue, 01 Aug 2006 17:46:47 +0000

I was at my friend's Dad's funeral today. I had never actually met her Dad, and I really wish I had.
I remember when my Dad died, some 17 years ago. The time before the funeral is such a limbo. I found the service and 'wake' afterwards such a watershed. It is what I guess could be called 'closure'. I find it amazing that my Dad often appears in my dreams and I never find it strange. When he died I was very afraid that I would forget his voice, his smell, his demeanor etc. I never have. Maybe that is what 'after life' is. Being in the memory of those that survive us. I sat in the Chapel thinking how good it would be to have such faith in 'Heaven' or 'God' or something, and not be afraid of dying. It must be amazing to live with the kind of certainty that there is something beyond this life. I try to be a 'good' person and I would hope that counts for something.
Not like me to be so morose, just wanted to type what I am feeling right now.

Talking Tiitty!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Fri, 28 Jul 2006 23:47:37 +0000

I haven't written anything here for ages - so sorry! I could put it down to school holidays, writers' block (aka: lack of imagination recently), or doing loads of research cos I may be starting a business soon (sooo excited - will tell more when it happens). Anyway, here I am back with a look at what inspired me to write this tonight.

I went with my gorgeous pal Koan to the hospital today. She is going to have breast augmentation soon and this was the second meeting with the Consultant. Since I breastfed both my boys and, indeed, managed almost a full year with Little Beaver, my titties are pretty ok size-wise. 'More than a mouthful's a waste' is my motto!

At the first meeting two different types of implant were shown to us (I say 'us' cos though it is absolutely none of my business, I feel compelled to get involved and find out everything in a 'someday I will be at a dinner party and this subject will come up and I will be the expert' kind of way). Actually Koan asked me to be her chaperone so I was there in an 'official' capacity. The other reason she wanted me there - and I readily agreed - was because I pointed out that her Surgeon in London was such a bit of totty that I am now her 'totty-monitor'.

So, having ticked the totty box, I'll leave that question hanging here - we perused the silicon chicken fillets. I say 'we' in the way the Queen does, cos I didn't get a feel..... I was miffed! Later Koan confessed that when the Consultant had said 'Be careful, they puncture easily' she knew that I would have been spraying silicon across the room cos I am so accident prone. There seem to be two types - one that are the round 'Jordan/Pammie' types and another that are kinda 'Perky Tittie'. 'Perky Tittie' are more expensive, but have a great 'perkie' look about them. I think they are called 410's so if you feel compelled - do a Google!

So there were the obvious questions: When can this happen? (Kinda screwed a bit for Koan cos we are going on holiday and she is on Ozzy (the dog) watch), but since the Double D's might take a while to come in, it might not be a problem. How long in hospital? Apparently only usually just the one night. How long will it be sore? Perhaps about a week..... Well try having titties you can't have walk past within a foot distance cos you cause of the breeze that chuffing hurts.... about once a month!! (Am I sympathetic enough -PMT just now so excuse me!)

I had this mega evil thought though when I asked about when Koan could drive again. We had a good laugh about it when we drove home. Apparently you know you can drive when you can do an 'emergency stop'. I have suggested that we will spend a few days with me driving and unexpectantly hammering onto the brakes. Don't know how she will feel about it at the time we do it, but laughing about it just now.

Sure there is more to follow ...keep in touch!

Our few days away...

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Fri, 14 Jul 2006 15:10:00 +0000

I took the boys down to England to visit my Mum and other members of my family earlier this week.

My Mum is 85 years old and is wonderful. She's a bit wobbly on her legs and a bit deaf, but otherwise is amazing for her age. She lives in accommodation for older people which is overseen by Wardens who make sure all is well with everyone there. Being up here in Scotland, it is very comforting to know she is being looked after whilst maintaining her independence.

I noticed a couple of things that made me think - will I do that when I'm older? Things like introducing myself by firstly telling my age, then my list of ailments and finally my name. Have you ever noticed that is what older people do? "Hello love, I'm 82 you know?" Don't be fooled into thinking this is a real stand-alone question - never attempt to answer because they haven't got all the information out for you to respond to yet! You may be forgetting that you have to firstly hear the ailment list. "I've just had my gall-bladder taken out and I told the doctors - just whip it out lovey, I'll do just a well without it. If I survived the war I can survive a little cut, can't I? Would the little ones like to see it? It's just in this jar" This is the time you can respond. There will be an audible pause. Good responses are "You're amazing" or "I hope I look as good as you when I'm 82". Yes, by the way, it probably is in a jar in the handbag - and no, don't let your kids see it!

Another thing I noticed starts even earlier. My good friend Big A was in hospital recently. Big A is only 56, but still did what I notice older people doing. It is basically forgetting that sound travels through air. I was visiting Big A in hospital and he was telling me what a p.i.a. the guy in the hospital bed was - so loudly it was untrue. He said if this guy didn't stop ringing the f*ing nurses' bell he was going to put it somewhere the sun don't f*ing shine. (Few more f*ings, but you know what I mean?) This guy was about 8 feet away. OK his curtain was around his bed, but since when did they provide soundproof curtains on the NHS? We visitors start wishing the chairs we are sitting on would swallow us up like in some crappy horror film!

So will I do all this when I get old? Probably!

"Man-Flu"

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Thu, 29 Jun 2006 18:32:45 +0000

My *Man Of Many Contradictions" has come down with *Man-Flu*!

I don't think we women appreciate how *Man-Flu* is such a debilitating illness. After all, we just get bad colds. We will never experience such a devastating disease as - yes I am going to say it again, even though I can never really understand it - *Man-Flu*!

Amazingly it doesn't stop them from going to important business meetings, they just take paracetamol and struggle through. It doesn't stop them from keeping their golf arrangements, they just have to have that whisky after because they have *Man-Flu*. Should all of the drugs companies abandon their other research and concentrate on this? It makes me wonder so.

To all you men out there who are or who have ever suffered from *Man-Flu* I can only say one thing of encouragement. Thank goodness I was never your nurse!!

I can't be the only one to spot this irony!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Sat, 24 Jun 2006 10:29:45 +0000

On the news today, Cadbury's have had to recall about a million chocolate bars because of a salmonella scare.

Apparently the salmonella was found in January, but for some reason they did not report it to the Food Standards Agency until last Monday, hence the recall now.

Anyway if anyone is concerned they can call the consumer hotline 0800-81-81-81

....ate one, ate one, ate one!!

No Talent!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Wed, 21 Jun 2006 12:37:12 +0000

Oh dear! We had a bit of a tragedy yesterday.

Big Cub and Little Beaver went to school yesterday morning, both excited about entering the school talent competition. BC asked me to write a funny poem for him, (I like writing poetry and that is why I will keep up to date with Kate Weston's blog "Nom de Grrr!". I just find her writing so inspirational). I did as asked and wrote about the school janitor winning the world cup for England by scoring the only goal. It was kinda funny cos not only is the jannie Scottish through and through, but also I had placed him in goal so he actually ran up the field passing every Brazillian player and scoring in the last minute of the game. BC is good at reading out loud so everyone was happy.

Little Beaver wanted to enter the competition too. He came running out of his playroom holding a recorder and announced that he was going to audition playing the *flute* as he called it. Once I had explained to him that you don't play a recorder out of the side of your mouth, he went merrily on blowing and moving his fingers producing an excruciating melee of tuneless notes. Oh well! Let him have a go.

So the school bus brought my two little *artistes* home and - you've guessed it - BC didn't get picked. Oh! The tragedy of it all, he was in tears. He was using that *talking whilst crying* thing that upset children do which removes all spaces from between their words and produces a lot of snot. I gave him cuddles and reassurance but all to no avail. It was just toooooo disappointing for words.

Next thing, Little Beaver jumps off the bus waving the recorder (or still *flute* according to him) triumphantly. "I got picked, Mum!". Would you Adam and Eve it? This sent BC into even louder sobs of angst. "That's amazing!" I said to LB, (and I truly meant it - I am amazed!!)

So come Friday, the day of the show, I will have one upset boy in the audience and another doing *Pied Piper on Speed* on the stage. Why am I glad that the show is for the children of the school only, not the parents? Answers on a postcard!!

So why My Curious Bedfellows?

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Tue, 20 Jun 2006 13:17:14 +0000

I thought I better explain my reason for the blog title, and also describe the rather *curious* family dynamic we have here at the moment.

Whilst wanting to talk about family and friends, I respect their privacy. I will, therefore, give them nicknames. So, for this piece, here is a summary of the people I live with.

To find a nickname for my husband was easy. He is *Man of Many Contradictions* (MOMC ? - does that work?) Why MOMC? Easy, for most things he has a strong opinion though his actions completely show the opposite. For example, although he considers himself a real hetero male and has pretty strong (sadly typical in my view) feelings about other sexual behaviours, his favourite artist of all time is Freddie Mercury. He writes *Mr Angry* letters to all in authority when he feels they are not doing their job properly, yet sticks two fingers up to authority when he drives his motorbike at 100+ mph. Don't get me wrong, I'm not actually complaining about this foible of his personality. In fact it gives for much hilarity in this household when either a) he goes *off on one* and passionately debates his side of the argument, and b) it is such good fun casting up his contradictions to him! I have no doubt that many of these will appear on this blog.

We have two boys with very differing personalities. Again you will read more about what they do and say, but I will give you a brief overview of each. Since they both go to Scouts, I thought using their group names would be good, so welcome to *Big Cub* (BC I guess) who is aged 9, and *Little Beaver* (LB) aged 6.

BC is very outgoing and a really sensitive boy. He will talk to absolutely anyone, and has no fear about approaching people. He does things like grow vegetables and then sells them by knocking on doors and he gives the money he raises to charity. We had never suggested he did this, it's just the way he is. Also, he is a typical 9 year old and can be a complete whingeing pain in the ass. When did teenage angst start at 9? Overall though, he is a kind, sweet little boy - well most of the time!

LB is very different. He has some difficulties which I will talk about in a future post, and this makes him very withdrawn until he gets to know a person. He is getting over this now and I think starting school last August really has helped him. His *condition* makes him very concerned about doing what he is told. He is very biddable and gets very (overly) upset when he gets into trouble. Having said all that, he works very hard and I am told that he is very intelligent for his age. (Of course I agree cos I'm his Mum!!) I think when someone has to work so much harder than the *norm* they excel in so many other ways.

We have a bit of a menagerie of animals (they don't mind me giving away their real names!) There is Isobel the hamster, Goldie the fish (original eh?!), Freddie the budgie and Ozzy the Boxer dog. Whilst the first three don't provide terribly much entertainment, Ozzy is totally mental and I am sure will provide much content for my blog.

Finally, (and like the pets, her real name!) Koan is staying with us for a while. Koan is a real enigma (bit of a Bhuddist in-joke there!) She is so special to me. She originally came here for R & R after surgery and is now considering her options for the future. It is she that was *primo-nagger* to get me to start this blog, and showed me what to do, who to register with etc etc in finally getting to this point. She is my techno guru too - although she has emigrated to Mac so has almost abandoned me on the PC front. "That wouldn't happen if you were using a Mac" - how often have I heard that?! You can read her fantastic blog here, as I'm sure many of you reading this already do - cos she's *real popliar*.

So that is a brief lowdown on who the *curious bedfellows* I live with are. I know there will be much material for me to post just from what happens in this madhouse. Our door is always open and the place is usually busy with children and adults alike. We do a lot of laughing - with and at each other, a wee bit of crying and quite a lot of living!! Hope you come to know, enjoy and join in the dynamic too!

And so ... at last!!

ozzybozzy@gmail.com (Jinty) — Mon, 19 Jun 2006 10:29:00 +0000

This is my first post ever. I have been nagged, cajoled and ...nagged again .... to start this!

I must admit that it is quite exciting to join such a community. I will try not to make mistakes - though I am sure I will - but will really appreciate and enjoy your comments. So please - even if you haven't commented anywhere before - feel free to give me your feedback, good or bad.

I intend to just write what I have or am now experiencing, what I know or believe to be true. I know I am not always right and enjoy having my ideas questioned. Trust me, I very rarely get p'd off by being given a different aspect on a subject. When I was 16 I knew everything - at 43 I have heard so much crap that I question everything.

Of course, I want you to laugh, cry - be involved in what I write. Most of all I want this to be a conversation between strangers yesterday - who may become friends today!