Crazy Daze, Silly Knights

Okay, don't deny it, you know exactly what movie that is from. And chances are you can't help but to smile when Patrick Swayze says it. That final dance scene....you're doing a little chair dancing when no one is looking. You have to do it when no one is looking because it is not acceptable to like that movie in public. It's one of those guilty movie pleasures. Which brings me to my rant of the day....movie snobs and critics. I'm not calling out only those critics that make a living of going to the movies for a living and nit picking afterwards. I mean hey, if I could get that gig, I'd do it, too. The hardest part of the day is sitting through a bad movie (Dune comes to mind....*shiver*). You go out with a pen and an attitude and you can make a name for yourself by not liking stuff and telling people to avoid the movie that has earned your distain. That's a career I can get behind. I'm mostly referring to the non-paid critics. The ones who make you feel

It's spring. Spring is the time of year when people get this urge, and urge that cannot be resisted, and urge that demands them to act. And urge that compels them to get down and get dirty. I am referring to spring cleaning, of course. The annual drive where many people awaken from the winter with the drive to get rid of everything they have been cuddled up to all winter long. This is something that may not affect those people who life in regions where the winter doesn't involve a shovel. Or getting hit by the wind so hard you get chilled to the bone. Where the weatherman never suggests that you stay in because it is too cold to go out. Spring might just be another day on the calendar for them. For those of us in the colder regions, spring is like a grand awakening. Fact is when the sun peeks its head out from behind the clouds, it is a topic of conversation. Perfect strangers will say, "Doesn't the sun feel good? How I have missed it!" It is perfectly natural to

I have recently come to the conclusion that my coffee table is out to get me. I know this sounds crazy. How can an inanimate object have that kind of goal in its existence? It is wood and glass and whatever else holds it together. It isn't capable of rational or irrational thought. I've realized this. And I agree. But I believe my table is haunted by a poltergeist. It's the only explanation I have. This table used to be the object of my affection. It held my books and notes on it without complaint. It held my drinks and laptop with ease. Never was there a harsh word spoken between us. Until.....it started attacking me. The first few times I bumped into the coffee table I assumed it was just my fault. I was being a klutz and not looking where I am going. But things are getting out of control. My legs are constantly covered with coffee table height bruises. The table constantly jumps in front of me and makes me smack my toes on it too. 2 weeks ago I swore I broke my pinky toe

I wear glasses. This is not anything unusual, many people wear glasses. When I first realized I needed glasses around 8 years ago I was a bit taken aback. I always considered glasses as a sign of getting older. It is an irrational thought because there are grade school kids with glasses, and heck they are WAY younger than me...chronologically speaking only on some days, but still, younger than me. But sometimes being illogical is part of being a human being. And I fit in that category. I came to terms with the glasses a long time ago. I was willing to do what it took to make sure I don't do any damage to myself and others and to be able to read and write without getting any headaches. My last appointement with my eye doctor took me to another level of reality. By the end of the visit, I was ordering bifocals. Bifocals. Not only does it hurt to say the word, but reading it on the screen causes a bit of a pinch too. It's crazy really, because I know the only thing that is taking

I'm going to start this by saying I don't know why I am starting a blog. I write...a lot. I talk even more. But the writing is a passion of mine. I have long streams of consiousness that just come out sometimes like raging river, sometimes like a babbling brook. Doesn't matter the topic, it just flow out. Editing isn't always done either. This might make "red inkers" nutz, but sometimes the best way to break a stream of thought is to worry about where the comma or period go. Don't get me wrong. I am a firm believer in correct word usage and correct grammer. But the constant worry of if my writing or ideas is good enough for people to read is so overwhelming there can be a though out there that unless it is proper it isn't worthy. I oppose that view. So this kind of explains why I am giving this a whirl. I'm not saying my thoughts are right or rational. But they are mine. What I write about will be whatever is on my mind, from the humorous to the no