
If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine





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I almost hate to admit it. I never thought I would become one of "THOSE" bloggers. The ones who edit and/or come up with mundane things to write about because she doesn't want to talk about any number of subjects with the whole world watching. (Or, more realistically, having the ability to watch)
There's plenty going on to write about. But sometimes it involves children, and I don't really feel right about going into details about their lives with the creepy "unlogged visitor" type people looking on. For that same reason, I don't want to go into details about my husband/marriage - which are both perfect, by the way. I could go on and on about pregnancy for days, but really, you've either been there done that and have the burp cloth to prove it, or you're not even the tiniest bit interested. (It's all very fascinating to me, but then, it's happening to me, and I realize that mothers tend to think that their own babies are the most wonderous creatures out there, when really they're just quite plain.) I could go on about the renovations being done on my house, but I've probably exhausted that topic. I can't talk about work. Jury Duty hasn't happened yet, and even if it had, I really wouldn't be able to blog about that, till it was over anyway.
Hmmm.
I got a REALLY cute new purse, and a matching wallet. In fact, I love it so much that I got another purse in the same exact pattern, but a different shape. It's like a disease, really. Wanna see?
I took a picture of a cute lifeguard today. He was sweeping. With a broom. Bet you don't see cute boys cleaning every day, huh?
Maybe I should just resort to a photo blog?
I know what you're thinking. It goes like this..."You should write for YOU!" Oh believe me, I do! I enjoy this blog very much, and I hardly care what any of you think about it.
I just don't like this sudden new feeling of censorship that's developed, because it's weird and not my blogging style. Maybe it's just pregnancy induced paranoia. Maybe it's troll induced paranoia. Maybe I just need a magazine rack for all of my issues. Or maaaaybe I've officially exhausted all possible topics, and there's officially nothing left to say. Maybe I want to ask you all to please not mention the upcoming anniversay of 9/11 and just forget it (in this forum) and promise to treat me like a regular person for the next month or so. Maybe it's just a phase, or a rut, if you will. Maybe I like you all so much that in the morning I'll read this and say "Gah! WTF was I talking about?" Or, maybe I'll say "Whew, I'm glad I got that off my chest."
Now, who wants to see my cute new purse(s)? Any takers for photos of the contents? I'm game, but someone else will have to do it too.
Cute boys with brooms?
Anyone?








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