I'VE MOVED!!!!

Hello, faithful followers!

I wanted to let you know that I have moved my blog.  You can now find me at: http://www.thischickadee.wordpress.com/.

See you there!!!

Randoms.

I can smell the lilacs through my open kitchen window.

I finally finished our honeymoon album.  Long story as to why I've made a honeymoon album before making a wedding album, but at least one's done nonetheless.  Too bad now I never want to see those pictures again.
Kidding.

I love our house.  That's all on that.

I'm looking to makeover my blog again, just haven't the energy or creativity today (I used it all on the honeymoon album).  I'm getting a complex since I've been introduced to some other blogs out there that are just so great.  It's not a competition, but I know I can do better.  At least, I hope so.

I've been thoroughly and ruthlessly enjoying my day off today. I'm practically assaulting it.  That has taken the form of sleeping in, laundry and other chores with the windows open, strawberry lemonade, and maybe a bit of Oprah (only 5 more shows!).  AND it's sunny!  What more could I ask for? 

I've been thinking in Facebook Updates all day.  I hate it when I do that.  Every thought I have turns into the perfect quip to go on Facebook and capture the precious moments of my day.  So I decided to blog.  :)

Love you.

Still here.

Don't worry- I'm not dead.
That's assuming, anyway, that there is anyone out there who reads this and wonders, "wow- it's been so long since she's posted. Where IS she?"
I've come to terms with the fact that this is a place for me to write. And my mom to read. (Love you, Ma!)

Anyway, self, aren't you so excited to be writing an article for Scoutreach? 
Why, yes, I am, even though I agreed to it and THEN looked up exactly what Scoutreach is. Interview is Thursday and by the end of the month, I shall finally have something published.  For Scouts.

And what about that is-yet-to-be-announced-project that has you talking to publishers as if it's no big thang?
Well, self, that's pretty cool, too.  In fact, I'd say my writing life has improved exponentially. Blogging is fun and all, but doesn't exactly advance you in the legit writing world and provide credibility when you're applying for professional writing jobs.  That is currently where my brother and a Christian niche are coming in.

So, exciting developments. Let's just pray that I do them well and can feel good about that.  Otherwise, back to the drawing board. 

Slow blogging...

I follow several blogs.  They are in my favorites, mostly one after another, and I just go down my blog list and check them out daily.  And if I miss a day, boy am I excited!  They may have TWO new blog entries!
That said, it looks like things in the blogging world have been slow.  Frequent bloggers have taken weeks to post and even then, don't have much to say.
This includes me.
Is blogging out?
Should I be tweeting?
Well, the answer to the latter question is a resounding "no" and actually quite laughable as I still find Twitter mystifying.  And that's intentional.

Maybe everyone is going through life changes at the moment and finds it hard to sum stuff up in 200 words.  "What's new today? Well, maybe everything.  Blog?  Eh, I'll wait."
I gonna go with that one.
Patience is a virtue, friends, as my Favorites bar tells me when it comes up empty.
And so it goes!

Only He Would.

Sitting on the bed next to me, listening as I weep about things that have more to do with horomones than any legitimate crisis. And nodding.

Telling me that "this dinner is fantastic," even though I snapped at him over burnt meat and a forgotten side dish.

Hugging me for so long when I come in the door that my coat's still on when I have to leave the house again.

Making me dress nice and grab a Q-tip and AA battery before we go on an "secret date," which is for the sole purpose of taking pictures to document our first year. 





My favorite tree.



Nothing to see here.

Going with me to the dentist because "it would be fun." 
Finally putting that tarp away. 

I tell him I love him all the time.  Hopefully this is just another way.

Where dinners go to die

I love Pyrex.  When opening wedding gifts, I felt truly married when I saw our complete set of Pyrex containers.  I had never owned a complete set of anything besides Christmas socks, let alone something so functional and domestic.

There's just one problem.
Pyrex is the root of all Leftover Evil.
See, I hate leftovers.  My only exceptions include food of the noodle variety (i.e. Thai, spaghetti, etc.) and even then, it can be hit or miss.
*Note: Don't think I haven't blow up at Kenny when he's eaten the last of the spaghetti, yet shrug and reply, "eh" the next time he checked with me first.  Poor thing.

My routine is as follows...
...spend too long finding a recipe for dinner, feeling incapable of making anything not out of a box.
...gather ingredients and place on counter.  Stare and bite nails until courage mounts and chopping begins.
...too many spills and potentially sliced fingers later, things are bubbling and sizzling while the oven is preheating. If I remember.
...on a wing and a prayer, everything is typically done about five minutes apart, which is just enough time for things to cool. And I hate cool food.
...table is set, we sit and consume, and I inevitably don't eat much since I have been intimate with said meal for about three hours. 
Thus we have leftovers.  Enter Pyrex.
"How handy!" we exclaim.  We feel so good about ourselves and our kitchen accoutrements, placing our dinner remnants on the lower shelf of the fridge for "later." 
Days, possibly weeks, pass with no attention to this lower shelf...

...until we need that Pyrex.

We're going camping now...

...we're on our way!
Well, let's hope anyway.
Destination: Hood Canal(ish)
Company: only the best- Larson Clan of Tukwila.  Oh, and in case you didn't know, I have the most brilliant niece on the planet. I will devour a weekend with her, understanding her observations on life.
Goal: nature + lots-of-brand-new-wedding-gifts-camping-stuff + SkipBo = heaven.

Now, Seattle, if you don't give us a few hours per day of no rain then I will seriously consider moving.  That and shape up your law enforcement, but that's another post. 
I have about reached my limit.

I want to CAMP. I want to run and jump and play!
And sing Hallelujah to the King.*
Naturally.

*If you don't know Psalty, the Singing Songbook lyrics, shame on you.

The battle is over.

This weekend marked a turning point in my life.
It took a decade, but I feel empowered and excited for this new chapter. 

I am no longer a snowboarder.  Well, let's be honest- I never really was.  But that's not the point.  I am now a SKIER!!!  It took 10 years of falling down the mountain, never getting better, and finally getting sick of sore knees and and a bruised bum for me to make the commanding decision. Halfway down Holiday at Summit Central, I fell for the umpteenth time only to sit up and say to Kenny, "I think I'm done." 

And that was it.

We packed up the ol' snowboard and promptly rented skis- and I'm never looking back.
Well, except for in this picture.


Lovin' the pizza.

I am so liberated, so happy. No longer bound to a single board, struggling to face the mountain, straining my knees and fearing the chairlift.  The fact is, folks, that I am not as young as I used to be.  Recovery time takes a bit longer at 27 than it did when I was 17.  And for what?  A not-so-fun experience that I always dreaded, especially when experienced skiers had to wait for me to pick myself up every time I fell and tell me, "We're just having fun today," which is code for "don't feel bad about sucking- we know it must be hard and we'll pretend this is so much fun in the name of 'spending time with friends.'" 
Turns out I am pretty good, too, which is nice.  I guess those years of boarding helped just a little. Now Kenny and I can enjoy this together, getting off the chairlift with ease and smiling over at each other as we sail down our mountain of love. 

This also puts an age-old battle to bed.  For the last six years, the Skiing Vs. Snowboarding Debate has been waging on between Kenny and I.  And he won.  Turns out my husband knew better, for the record.  I have to give him credit.
However, only my clothes shrunk in the last load when the dryer was on too high, so....

Mad Body.

Hot tubs are awkward.
And I bet you know why.
But since I can't hear you, let me share my reasons.

First of all, talk about shocking the body.
"What- it's bathing suit season already?!?" your body cries.
"Well, no.  It's only March. But we're gonna get in a hot tub," you try to reason.
"Um, with who?" Body continues.
"Strangers," you murmer.
"Wait a minute.  Let me get this straight," says Body. "You're about to put on a bathing suit three months early after wintering with comfort food, surround yourself with strangers, and sit around chatting in a hot bath."
"Yes..."
"Good luck. We're gonna need it."  Body sighs.

The best part? Bathing suits only.  Due to the lack of sun necessary to use as an excuse to further cover up in the water, hot tubbing is a cold weather activity and thus you are left with nothing to say about just throwin' on the old suit (minus board shorts) and jumping, I mean slowly lowering yourself, in.

Can't wait.

GAAAAAH

COMPUTERS ARE HAAAAARRRDD!!!
THEY TAKE HOOOOOUUURRRSSS just to do OONNNNEEE THING!!!!

Just had to get that out.  Yelling it into cyberspace is much more acceptable than yelling it out my front door (the neighbors would worry).

Crosseyed

Most of the time, I resist using the phrase: "I love my husband."  Too many folks using social mediums like Facebook feel the need to announce this quite frequently.  I prefer to update my status with more interesting things, such as what I'm eating or my clever take on the weather.

However, there is an exception for every rule.
I will say this: my husband rocks my socks off.
And here's why.

We are both venturing into the world of websites and it's not pretty. MANY hours, almost to the point of tears, have been spent clicking our way around hosts and templates and URLs (I know- that the heck am I even saying?).  Back-to-back we sit, attempting to figure out who we are on the world wide web.
It's nauseatingly overwhelming.
That said, Kenny knows way more about all of this than I do.  Surprised? I didn't think so.  That's like saying I know more about bras than he does- I mean, duh. I have been toiling over my site, wanting to throw my computer every time I couldn't figure out how to change what I wanted to change and just when I thought I should pack it in and give up on the whole thing, Kenny saved me.  He gave me hope.  He gave me know-how. He gave me HTML code.
His final masterpiece will be unveiled when I eventually allow anyone to visit the site. (Hint: it's at the top)
Until then, I will keep looking at fonts until I'm crosseyed and shout from the rooftops: I LOVE MY HUSBAND!!!!

Roomies.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

It's finally happened- Kenny and I are officially roommates.  We attacked the spare room with gusto, moving furniture, going through our piles of stuff, and generally making room for anything/one else besides Kenny and the bed. Honestly, I could no longer stand being the Soldano House Nomad in light of my new creative ventures (a whole 'nother story). Moving any of my papers or books into piles on the microwave, refrigerator, or dresser was completely ridiculous. I just couldn't even take myself seriously.
In order for you to really see the difference, I have included a picture of me typing this post- technology is that crazy- and generally enjoying having a space.
*I also wanted to include a picture of the fab lamp I purchased at Goodwill the day we got the desk.  It was just calling my name and though Kenny was not convinced, a fellow lamp enthusiast sharing the aisle was very encouraging of the look, as was the cashier.  It's growing on him.
Unfortunately, you can also see that we have a long way to go- organizing and decorating alike. Our list of house projects is growing long, from painting tables and chairs to staining other tables and building shelves and bookshelves.  There is a chance we will finish the room sometime before we move.
But let's just stay focused on this small victory for now.

Daylight in the swamp!

Nearly every morning of my childhood, my mother would slowwwwwly turn the doorknob to my room, gently opening the door to reveal her hair in some state of curling or teasing, and sing-song, "daylight in the swwaaaaamp!" Usually, my cat would climb up on the bed soonafter and my mother would retreat, letting the daylight in my swamp really set in and wake me up to start the day.
In my swamp.

Lost?  Well, that look on your face is the one I've been encountering since I was old enough to share this story with friends who had no idea what I was talking about. 
But it's daylight in the swamp, nonetheless.
I am with coffee, sitting in the sunshine in my kitchen, thinking about going to the zoo today with Amber and Emma, and thoroughly thrilled.  There's some snow still on the ground, the skies are blue, and it's gonna be gorgeous.  It's one of those activities, with the exact right people, that fills your heart with anticipation and joy.  Nowehere along the way is there risk of disenchantment- no threat of rain as far as the eye can see, unadulterated time, and the zoo. All signs point to "fun".
I just felt like letting the blog world know that today.  It's gonna be great and full of joy. There will be skipping, giggling, pointing, and pictures. 
And I'm sure Emma will have fun, too.  ;)

More than whelmed.

As I have focused on this new project of mine, I have become increasingly anxious about the "right" decisions. Sometimes, this world we live in gives us too many options.  If we just kept it simple, I'm sure high blood pressure stats would just plummet for sure.

This is not just fun and games anymore, friends.  This is business.  Actually.  That means Big Girl Choices. 
I'll just say this- don't be surprised to find this blog completely remodeled in the near future.  It's like clothes- even if you don't want it, the fact that your mom or friend has it means it is not really gone and you could even get it back if you wanted to.
It's like that.

For Hire

Sample deal #1 is $25 ($50 value) at Shiro's Sushi in Belltown.

If the Pacific Northwest has anything worthwhile to offer besides mountains, coffee, and a competitive market for fleece, the region of green can shamelessly boast of its fresh fish. That is where Shiro Kashiba comes in. Daily visiting secret seafood suppliers, Chef Shiro prepares the freshest of fresh sushi in Seattle. Experience the sashimi those restaurant guides are talking about for $25 at Shiro’s Sushi in Belltown.

For a $50 value, Shiro’s rich menu will have locals praising their proximity to a port and raving as Chef Shiro himself prepares sushi dreams-on-a-plate right before their eyes. Given that he is also no stranger to dishing it up for emperors and famous athletes alike, expect only the best from this treasure of Belltown.

Grab a seat early and settle in for the smelt that practically went from the sea to your plate. Just don’t ask the Chef where he got it- those knives are sharp.

Sample deal #2 is a $2 evening movie ticket (valued at $12) at Big Picture Theater in Belltown.
Not since Mom and Dad were watching Starsky & Hutch and dry cleaning their polyester did going to the movies cost less than paying to park. With that in mind, sit back in a lavish rocker seat and enjoy a must-see feature for $2 at Belltowns’s Big Picture Theater. With tickets regularly valued at $12, the question is simple. Can you dig it?

Offering a full bar and signature Champagne popcorn, this movie experience will end the days of strip mall cinema and begin a new Friday night tradition. Guests must be 21 and older, allowing their professional staff to treat you like a member of The Mod Squad when delivering your cocktail right to your seat. Don’t forget to arrive early enough to enjoy the richly decorated, comfortable setting and pick the perfect stadium seat. Hint- the first row offers foot rests to kick up those platform shoes.

No small measures were taken to assure a full event while viewing the latest four-star film. After an evening that rivals a scene from, well, a movie, date night will never be the same. Far out.

Feeling BLUE

Friends, great news- it's a boy!  The Larsons have a little guy on the way and all I can say is...I had a feeling.

Ryan, don't worry.  I'm sure little Onyx isn't going to give you any trouble. It's the first-born brothers that are cunning, stubborn, malicious buggers.

You'll be fine.  ;)

A little bit of German town

As brownies bake (don't worry- the $0.99 kind, nothing homemade...I mean, come on), I thought I would mention what fun Kenny and I had in Leavenworth this last weekend.
Yes, we "took a weekend" like we've been doing it for years. Well, that's not true.
Maybe, just maybe, every other minute or so we stopped to exclaim, "This is NOT normal" or "I am your wife. Isn't that CRAZY?"  But other than that- we were pros. Walking around, dining, taking pictures, buying hats, sampling olive oil, etc.
I would just like to say that, out of our little cocoon on 88th, it felt more real to be married.  We had planned our trip, decided how to spend our time, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.  Outside of the honeymoon which, let's be honest, is more terrifying than anything else (I mean that in the best way possible, of course- in the suddenly-I'm-flying-away-for-two-weeks-with-this-person-and-changing-my-name sort of way) we haven't tested this new marriage out and given it wings.
Now we have. Bavarian wings, if you will.

And it was good.  :)

What.

keep up

First, I'd like to say that onions will be the death of me. They're like my kryptonite- if anyone wants to take my purse or steal my car, forget gunpoint.  Put an open onion in my face. I will become immediately incapacitated. Cutting one up means instantaneous blindness and consequently operating a knife with my eyes closed.  Not good.
Remedy? 
Sticking my head in a freezer.

This works.  I promise.  I'm not just trying to get you to stick your head in the freezer like a fool. 

Secondly, I have become increasingly domestic as of late (hence the onion story). Yesterday it was meatloaf and mashed potatoes and today it's the Crock Pot. I'm not sure how I feel about this.  Some days it's delightful.  I've never been much of a cook (*collective gasp*), but it's nice when we've planned a menu and I have the time to screw it up and make it right again (this requires absolutely no one in the kitchen but yours truly, with no witnesses and no judgement as I do things wrong, i.e. "my way").
Then there are other days where I am chopping away, say at 3pm because it's for the Crock Pot and when it's for the Crock Pot it needs to sit for four hours, and I stop to think, "other people are working right now.  Other mature, successful, non-stay-at-home-moms, are unable to chop for the Crock Pot because they are working.  Hm."  And suddenly the romance is gone. 
But dinner's gotta get done.  Someone in this family has to bring home the bacon and someone's gotta cook it.

Thirdly, Kenny and I went on quite the adventure Saturday night. Barring our recent Dairy Queen Escapade, we aren't exactly "spontaneous." But we got bees in our bonnets and decided that we wanted Olive Garden and to watch Mary Poppins. This meant Lynnwood and, well, finding Mary Poppins.  Let's just say that after selling some of our old VHS movies at Half Price Books for a grand total of $3.25, searching their kid's movies, calling another store, and finally just heading to Olive Garden in defeat, we spotted a Goodwill and gave it a shot.  Well, I stood in line with a buzzer (who knew the Garden was the place to BE?) while Kenny ran to Goodwill. 
Note: Kenny was wearing the glorious boat shoes I gave him for an 80's party and haven't let him throw out. They are hysterical.  I die every time he wears them, which is usually his point. And it's raining outside.  And Goodwill is a distance. He ran, in the boat shoes, in the rain.
He came back with Mary Poppins, purchased for $0.54 on VHS, and I believe we jumped up and down in celebration in the lobby of the packed Olive Garden.
We fit right in.
So that was our Saturday night.  It was bliss.

That's all, folks.  Just some thoughts.  :)

Two decades later...

Once upon a time, I was very into gymnastics.  Cartwheeling, somersaulting, hand standing, back bending- the works. I was a tumbling machine.  I used to practice my handstands so much that I would leave hand prints in the carpet for a couple of days. The Little Gym was the best (though turned me off of the B-52s and "Love Shack" for life) and I even graduated to a pretty impressive gym for a time(when it's in a warehouse and they sell tons of pretty gymnastics wear, you know it's legit).

However, the tender age of twelve was not very good to me- I grew. Tall.  Keri Strug, I was not. At 5'8", I was suddenly terrified of hitting my feet while spinning around an uneven bar and couldn't bear looking down, down, down below while shivering on the balance beam.  Vault was still pretty fun and floor was no problem, but I was still all limbs.  Plus, I'm sure my ever-growing curtain of bangs compromised my visibility and I was a hazard to other aspiring gymnasts as I catapulted all over the place, but that's another story (thanks, Mom).  For whatever reason, I dropped it.
Fast forward twenty-five years, and I am attempting a different form of flexible prowess- yoga.
Man, I miss being twelve.  At least then I was able to touch my toes without labored breath and tears stinging my eyes.  Once I heard the opening notes of "Nothing My Love Can't Fix", I would launch into an endless routine packed with splits, back walkovers, and plenty of professionally choreographed dance moves. I was destined for stardom.

This is really all about a crisis of age. Since when was I 27-years-old, straining in my Warrior II and cursing my "bad knee" and "sore back" and breathing my heart out until she let's me go into Child's Pose?
All this to say, I remember the good ol' days: leotards & spandex, scrunchies & bangs, and Joey Lawrence singing his heart out while I elastically threw my body around like it was no thang.
Little did I know.

Well, at least in yoga we're more likely to listen to Yanni than the B-52s.  So there's that.
Namaste.

Eureka

That's it- I'm just gonna do it.
Run with it.
Whatever happens, I tried and hopefully, nobody got hurt.

Too many signs lately have pointed to "yes" (the answer to the question "is this a good idea?") that I can't ignore.  If I did, then my increasing employment unhappiness would be my own fault and it would be the umpteenth time God said, "See, this is where you just had to do something about it, see, after I gave you the go-ahead."

So here I go!

Backtracking

Oh, how quickly things can come-a-tumblin' down.
In the space of a week or so, I have managed to fall desperately into a funk.  My last post was so nice, so optimistic (who thought of that title?), and so grateful.
Of course I'm still holding on tight to the things I am thankful for- that list won't budge- but I am still having a hard time right now.

Without drudging through the inescapably morose details, let's say that it involves employment, mainly, and what the heck I'm doing with myself. I can't take it anymore, yet the good ideas I thought I was having have been bizarrely thwarted (beyond all comprehension).  You know the kind I'm talking about- the kind you think are brilliant and would make you happy, then you innocently stumble upon the thwart and your heart literally falls into your stomach with that Square One Feeling, the kind where you want to look up and ask the ceiling, "is this a joke?"

No, really.  Is it?

What's in store for the Soldanos?  God only knows.
Literally.

Future lookin' bright.

Top Ten Reasons to Salute 2010/Welcome 2011

10.) This time last year I was preparing to take Save-the-Date pics and living in a freezing apartment. I am

currently sitting in a cozy house, whisper-distance from my husband. Yay. :)

9.) As of November, I began a Book Club.  FIN.A.LLY. So far we have covered polygamy, the politics of food, and are soon to discuss our first president. Sitting around, chatting for hours comes naturally

to us all, but now it's about books. And brunch.

8.) I came to manage the Stone Way Diva Espresso, which has had its ups and downs, but mostly sounds a little bit better when I tell people what I do and makes me feel like I have some worth when I'm going in to make latte after freakin' latte. Which leads me into...

7.)...praying that I find something else that lends itself to my gifts and passions i.e. reading, helping people, laughing, listening and coffee.  Ideas are in the works (we've GOT THIS, Chacs).

6.) I got to hang out plenty with a wonderful niece, Emma,  and am going to be an aunt once again come this summer to a child whose name may or may not be Carson Parson. Another Larson running around this world- yikes.



Lamb. Of. God.



2010 lent itself to sweet pictures like this. Precious.

6.) I began to exercise regularly last year and hope to keep up that routine.  Well, "begin again" is more like it. The holidays were rough, you understand.  Okay- so I haven't done so hot since before the wedding. I've, as they say, "let my proverbial self go."  There, I said it.

5.) Nails will once again adorn my fingertips. I swear. Without a wedding looming, my inspiration must come solely from my heart within. My eternal struggle. 
4.) I have some pretty unbelievable friends and family whom I often can't believe God put in my little life. I thank Him every single day for these people and do my best to honor them.  Who knows how I do, you'd have to ask them, but I just hope they know I feel blessed to know them.  (Disclaimer to my fam- I'd put pics of you all on here, but that would be a lot. You know who you are.)



Friend family. The best kind.

3.)  Simplicity.  That is my key word for this year.  You know the Robin Williams blockbuster, "Patch Adams"?  Of course you don't.  Well, I don't remember that much either, but I do remember that he makes an elderly lady's dream come true by having her swim in a big pool of pasta.  Spaghetti, to be exact. It was her dream.  The scene ended with a shot from above, looking down on her in snow-angel-form, swimming in her spaghetti.  Friends, I want to swim in pasta.  After a crazy 2010 full of moving,  planning and having a bomb wedding, a honeymoon (wait- I'm leaving Seattle, but not going to Alaska?), being in another wedding soon after, my birthday, settling in, Thanksgiving, mom's birthday, the Holidays, Kenny's birthday, and finally a new year, I am ready to slow down. Back to the basics, friends. I adore having very few commitments in a week and being able to spend the evening playing card games with Kenny while eating homemade pizza and/or reading. I hear God better in those times, too, when there's less going on to drown Him out. I have bad enough hearing as it is.

2.) I must pay homage to this man I now call husband. I call him that quite a lot, actually, as it still feels foreign to my tongue and even though several months have passed, I daily find it surreal.  Marrying him has been the biggest blessing of my life, one that I thought I was totally prepared for but soon realized I wasn't in the slightest. Just because we had been together a long time and knew we enjoyed each other's company (and hoped to until death did us part), didn't mean we were all set for being his and him mine, day in and day out. I constantly invite and face the gravity of my role as partner to him, the one he wakes up to and the one he chose to spend his life with. I think that is important, recognizing the magnitude of that choice.  Yes, of course I have my moments of, "Well, buddy, aren't you just too lucky that this fine gal chose to marry you, huh?" but those are generally due to my completing chores I hate and other selfless acts he doesn't always recognize.  :)  Outside of those times, I am mostly humbled by the fact that life is quick and precious, and I will be the one to witness Kenny's the rest of the way through, as closely as one possibly can.

You know, there are days when I pause just to look at him, amazed at his generosity, kindness, and knowledge, and praise the God who knew the plan all along.

And #1 is.....) Well, God. To be honest, anything else would be plain crazy. He walked me through an insane 2010, will hold my hand through 2011, and will pretty much be #1 in any countdown I dare to create in future years.  This list would not exist if not for Him, who blessed me with numbers 2-10 and beyond. To leave Him out would be like thanking the cupcakes for being good, but not the baker. Well, you know what I mean. I was never good at analogies. I look forward to finally confessing I'm quite the faith louse, quite frankly, and challenging myself to a true relationship.

That's all, folks.  If you read through this whole post, I salute you, too.

Here's to 2011- may it be as grand as the last (year, that is, not 2010- that's impossible).