And so, I begin.

This is my first post, the first impression I provide, but the people who read this already know me so there won't be a great many surprises, but hopefully many great surprises.

I'm living in Arizona, on which I'm of two minds. One side of my brain loves to be near my friends, playing pool in pool halls that feel like home, able to access Filibertos (Or his lesser known, slightly shady cousins Elibertos, Rodibertos, and Alibertos) at 3 in the morning, and gamefully employed at Amex. I live in a nice place, drive a car that works, and I'm able to support my book buying habit so I have reading material until I die. Other people do drugs, I buy books, as boredom is the enemy. The other side of my brain keeps reminding me that it's the desert, triple digit weather is on its way, there are only two seasons (Hot and Not as Hot), and I miss having four seasons. I miss Cedar Point, living near my youngest brother JT so I can go over to his house and geek out on football and board games, and snow. Ah...snow. Pardon me while I take a moment and visualize snow...

Alright, I'm back. Anyway, I'll deal with the first side of my brain, as it involves having a nice, stable existance where I can play pool as much as I like, and now that I've instituted my 'wildcard vacation' plan (I'll explain that on the next post.) every time I get sick of the place I hop a plane to parts unknown. I have an autonomous life, for the most part, which means I don't have to run my plans of any sort past anyone before I go, or stay, or so something fabulous, or do something stupid. I most certainly wouldn't want someone to stop me from doing something stupid, as the most valuble lessons lurk behind a bad idea.

Now let us see what goes on with the other half of my brain, which always wants to go. Most of the time it has nothing to do with moving, but more with not wanting to be where I am than going other places. When I'm angry, especially, I don't want to really give someone a piece of my mind or cause a scene, so I just go. I've recently been given feedback on my quick exits so I'm trying to be a better social citizen and actually say 'goodbye' when I leave. The thing is, I think I exit a place without the fanfare because I hate when people ask me, 'Why are you leaving?', which I don't think they understand is a loaded question. If I'm mad, the reason for leaving is to go sort out why I'm angry in my head before I unleash it on the world. Usually, left to my own devices, I can forgive and forget before I've even left the parking lot, but what if I'm really irate? Who needs to see that? If I'm tired of the scene, I don't want my friends to think they have to make life more exciting for me to stick around. The other day I left due to a wardrobe malfunction but I was likely to come back, so do I say goodbye, but not goodbye? Did my friends really need to know that the reason I was leaving because my pants were too big and falling off my tush as I bent over to play pool? I guess I could have said 'I'll be back in awhile...', but I wasn't sure I was coming back. What if I want to go to another pool hall after I do the adjustment on my jeans? Now you know the thoughts that go through my head, I've revealed the level of silly freak I am, eh?

Of course, I miss coming home and bouncing ideas off my Mom. Mom knew everything. I could come home ticked about something and run the situation past her and she would tell me why I was a jerk, or ask my why I felt guilty over some stupid thing someone else did, or whatever fit the situation. I miss that. She passed away in February of 2005 and it still feels like yesterday. She still lives in my dreams. Of course, in those dreams I'm 8 years old, chasing fire flies in the front yard and my mother is standing on our old front porch, wiping her hands with a dish towel, shouting that supper is ready. She's tall (according to my eight year old self, when in actuality she was only 5'3"), strong, and a force of nature. She yells for supper and 7 kids come from all over the neighborhood, running home to clean up before eating. In my dreams she's alive, I live in Ohio in a house that now looks nothing like the house where I grew up (It wasn't as pretty when I lived there. Aluminum siding really does make a difference.), but in my dreams it never changed. Sometimes I'm really upset I had to wake up and it's that upset that tells me Arizona wasn't meant to be my home. I'm not planning to leave now, but it always lives in the back of my mind. I've discovered, actually, that I can travel without having to move my entire life, and Arizona is as good as any launching pad I've had. I'm here physically, if not in spirit.

Anyway, if you read what I write you'll learn more about me than perhaps you ever wanted to know, and if you're my friend Amy it should be dull reading, because I tell you everything anyway. =D Welcome to my inner thoughts and remember, forgiveness is divine.