but let me tell you…i’ve been going thru some things lately…the last couple of week have been absolutely WICKED. maybe, i’ll share the details when it’s long past and i see the value in the lesson…maybe not. in the meantime…let me try to show you….

it’s no coincidence that my linename/nickname is “shug”….named for two special sorors on each line of my undergraduate chapter….short for ‘brown sugar’ - a title passed down thru the generations by my sorority for “the chosen ones”…but for me since i was named in 1995, i’ve associated not with a ‘bubbling brown sugar’…a sugary, sweet goodness…but with shug avery’s character in the color purple:

and lately, i’ve been singing in my head - and sometimes out loud…SO out loud to the point where people look at me with this incredulous expression and say ‘girl, i didn’t know you could sang!‘ while i begin with a low - “SPEAK MY LAWWWWD…SPEAK TO ME… “MY SOUL….MY SOULLLLLL….SAYS YES!!!!” (lol…yeah, your girl can blow when she wants to…that’s that country mississippi old chuuch ancestry bubbling over… lol). city girl, with a sho’ nuff country swirl. hmph.

i tell you what….i feel like shug….knowing her roots, having tried secular comforts but still hearing that nagging voice in her head, pulling on her old, southern religious foundation. God spoke to me a couple of years ago…LOUDLY…i was going about…doing my own thing and then BAM! God’s voice woke me up out of a dream and i made a decision based upon than that voice (YES!!! YEEEEEESSSSS!!!! SPEAK MY LAWWD…OOOOOH, LAWD…SPEAK MY SOUL) …i surrendered…i stood up and started walking….with other people following me…maybe not hearing God anymore by that point, but hearing that rhythmic voice saying in that melodic tone softly harmonizing “Speak my soul…” and i’m trying…based upon that voice, trying to see it through…but sometimes….Lord knows that i question why i was the one that chose to listen…and was MY decision the best for everyone following this thing through with everyone involved right now.

i dunnno. maybe i’m just frustrated. maybe i’m just questioning my faith. maybe this is bigger than me. how could i ignore that voice when it saved me …repeatedly “I WAS SO LOST….UNTIL YOU SPOKE TO ME….HEAR MY SOUL” ???? GOD, i’m listening…. and those who chose follow me as i see this thing thru…i THANK you…i truly do….i can’t begin to tell the world how absolutely amazing each and every one of you are….y’all pray fuh me….pray fuh us…

so, i’m taking this leadership class in my county. it’s for people that aspire to be community leaders, run for public office, that sort of thing. i’ve often told you about my small town of “mayberry” - 30 miles south of atlanta. i label myself as a country girl with a city swirl and so for the last 6 years, i’ve fallen in and out of love with my town.

part of what we’ve been dealing with down here is “cul.tur.al di.ver.sity” and race relations. this place used to be EXTREEEEEMELY segregated to the point where you can actually visit slave cabins. if you google my side of town it’s literally labeled in yahoo! maps as “blacksville” because during reconstruction, some of the free blacks were given land on one side of town where the descendants of those freedmen still reside in shanty-like homes to this day. so fast forward to the new millennium, where most of us ATLiens craved good old country living and the northern invasion permeated the suburbs (but billybob and miss sally jane never left) and you’ve got a potential powder keg.

for the past month, i’ve been immersed in div.er.sity training as a part of my leadership class. supposedly, i’ve been tapped because i have the ability to bridge the gap. *insert surprised look here* and although a part of me goes into each session with a hefty amount of cynicism - sometimes i wonder if a part of me is changing.

i now have white friends - like real, live non-associate, genuine white FRIENDS. we talk on the phone, we laugh, we cry, we celebrate, we love - white friends. i’m used to having older, white people “friend” me (c) Facebook/MySpace, but i’ve always looked at it in the webster/whachoo talkin’ ’bout willis type sense. you know………they see a cute, lovable non-threatening negro with potential and they’re all willing to lend a hand. but in this new reality, i’m talking about friends that are my age.

it didn’t hit me until the night that obama gave his acceptance speech for the democratic convention. my friends and i - of which, i was the only black person, had been going back and forth about a date for our girls’ night out during restaurant week. the only evening that we could all get together was that thursday.

my first thought was “OBAMA!!!”, but i’d already decided to DVR the speech. but then, THEY all realized that we would miss the speech and began to try to figure out how to do both - finally agreeing to go back to one of the girl’s house 15 minutes away and follow up w/ desert and wine.

as i sat with my friends - me ….the only black, with a family history of rape, castration, lynching, false imprisonment - sitting in the same room with women who have just as much southern history (albeit the other side of the game lol) cheering and jumping up and down for what is probably going to be our first black president of color. it was a surreal experience.

the next week, i sat in my cul.tur.al div.er.sity workshop with a black women right around my mother’s age. she’s already in a position of leadership within our county. i and another younger black person were having a conversation about racism with her. the woman’s rage and hurt for white people was palpable…it reminded me of a conversation that i had with my own usually mild-mannered mother. we (the younger people) were more open to seeing white people as ‘people’ first, while the older generation (this woman and my mother) felt as though they couldn’t be trusted.

for the first time, i realized that maybe times were really changing…maybe king’s dream wasn’t deferred after all. maybe, my generation was meant to bridge the gap and heal the hurt.

yesterday, one of my white friends cried in my arms while confiding a tough situation she was experiencing to me and then 2 hours later we laughed and high-fived each other. we spoke on the phone for about an hour that evening and ended the conversation with declarations of love for the other. she - a usually hardcore, non-outwardly expressive person- let her guard down in front of me. the emotion, the connection was genuine and transcended race. and judging from previous situations where she’s had my back i instinctively know that if i needed to, i could also let my guard down with her. wow.

maybe times are changing….

i refuse to apologize for not posting! i’m just gonna admit that i’m trifling and keep it moving. at first, i was just gonna post some more randumb shyt but then word on the curb tonight got me thinking….

y’all wanted the story of mama beloved and her ride in the back of td jakes’ hummer limo, so let me tell that briefly. mama beloved is working on her doctorate and has had to do some traveling the last couple of months. last month, she ended up in dallas. and of course, being the southern belle that she is never misses an opportunity to make a new friend - one of which happened to be the limo driver at the church on sunday morning. she just walked up to him after the service and batted her eyelashes, told him that she was from out of town and that SURELY he could show some southern hospitality to her and her colleagues…and lo and behold, i receive this pic*. the gentleman was nice enough to take her and friends back to their hotel. :

so tonight, on word on the curb the subject was raised about exactly who is to blame for the deteriorating state of our relationships. we’ve blamed the black man in the relationships, the black woman, absentee fathers but what if it’s our mama’s fault? do they get a pass?

i think about mama beloved and how she truly is my role model - always has been, even when i didn’t know it. this picture hangs up in the upstairs hallway of my home. it’s the only picture with dad that i choose to display. my mom is the age that i am now in that pic (wow - i just realized how much we favor) and one thing that strikes me is the look of fear in her eyes. seriously.

looking at me (baby beloved lol), what was i learning in relation to men and relationships? my mom has never re-married, although she did become involved in a long-term relationship w/ a wonderful man that became my father in all the ways that my biological was not. part of me thinks that those two relationships mirror a pattern that i had/have/had/have… *shrug*

as you long term readers now, i was in an abusive relationship almost a decade ago - some of the scenes were reminiscent of my dad’s violent episodes. on the flip side, i’ve also experienced some fairytale romances - whose interactions mirrored my mother and her longterm boyfriend. one thing that she always told me growing up was that although she was a single parent - it was NOT the way that things were supposed to be. she also told me that she wanted me to make better choices in the types of men that i dated.

one thing she unknowingly taught me was submission in two different forms. i remember being so ANGRY with her for not fighting my dad back. it was right around the age of me in the picture that i tried to stab my father with a knife for hitting her and i vividly remember looking at my mother with venom because SHE should’ve been the one doing that - not me. i think in a lot of ways that made me unable to submit in relationships because i saw it as a sign of weakness.

so what did i do? i got with a man what wanted a submissive woman and i refused to submit. and when i didn’t (because i thought he made dumb decisions) he became violent. but i stayed. why? not because i was scared, but because i was angry and i wanted to kill him the same way that i wanted to kill my father, but couldn’t because i was little. in the end, i think that it allowed me to get some of my crazy out because i ended up in some situations scaring the shyt out of not.the.one’s 6′2 215lb ass. i was able to have a free ticket of rage because who could blame me if i spit on a man that just slapped me or cut a man who yanked me by the hair? and every time that something like that would happen i would think “that’s what my mama should’ve done. why didn’t she fight back? f*ck submission!”

on the flip side, when my mama was with my “stepdad” she was also submissive but in a relaxed, way - the way that it was supposed to be. i saw how although she was a single parent and extremely independent at that point that she allowed her man to be a MAN - and she was good about pointing out the qualities he possessed that i should look for in my mates. i also saw that he was a man WORTHY of holding the title of “head of household”. but even though she modeled a positive relationship for me, maybe because i was ruined at my core at such a young age - it has only been recently that i now understand the difference.

i’m glad to see that i’m finally at peace w/ the devil and angel that used to sit on my shoulder - or at least i think that i am. funny thing is that creasy has known me through all of those years and experiences. even though he knows about not.the.one , i don’t think that he can see that side of me. it’s also funny because when i think about my behavior when i’m around him, even though we’ve known each other for over 15 years now (longer than i knew not.the.one) - i’ve always been feminine and submissive with an innocent, childlike happiness - similar to the way that my mom was with my stepdad. probably, because i know that wherever we end up in the next few years - friends or something more - he’s worthy of “acking right” for.

i guess in a way mama beloved both destroyed and saved me without even realizing it.

i swear, i have a good reason for not updating. i’ve been working! we changed over to a new computer system, lost our students’ schedules blah, blah, blah - i won’t bore you w/ the details but trust me - i’ve been swamped. i had some good entries that i planned on posting over the last few days *cough* weeks, but now they seem like old news.

instead, of posting them i’m gonna just post excerpts of conversations that i’ve been engaged in while i was gone and y’all tell me which ones y’all want me to elaborate on:

\.

TO BE CONTINUED…

i must be batshyt crazy. it’s 2:22AM and i’m supposed to be hurrying up trying to finish my work so that i can catch an hour or two of sleep but what am i doing? blogging… *sigh* ….i’m such a procrastinator.

so, i was reading a friend’s note on facebook….for those of you who don’t access fb - you can write “notes” similar to blogging. anyway, one of my boys posted a topic defining a ‘good woman’. the topic (i think) has been exhausted among the twenty/thirty something crowd. i remember the discussions we used to have on my old blog as my ideas about men grew and developed. i look at some of the vet bloggers from 04-05 and we’re still discussing the topic in 08. *wavy lines simulating flashback to c2a’s infamous ‘barren broads’ comment that sent female bloggers out to the health food stores to purchase pre-natal supplements lest our ovaries shrivel while we were waiting for that paper perfect prince lmao* good times!

the funny thing about reading and participating in all of these discussions over the last few years is to watch how those of us who are still single are learning from our married (and sometimes now divorced) counterparts - even our own experiences and how decreasingly important “paper perfect” mates are becoming.

and i don’t think it’s a matter of lowering our standards. i honestly think that it’s a matter of realizing that all that glitters isn’t gold and the ‘credentials’ that many of us (both male and female) are working so hard to attain aren’t that important anymore. my homeboy mentioned that men intuitively expect their wife to share many of the qualities of their mother - but that now there are about 40% less women that share the attributes of his mother’s generation. and he’s right.

i tell my mother and her friends all of the time that they are the last of a dying breed. they remind me of queens - beautiful, regal, self-aware and righteous. she tells me that they did not always have it ‘together’ and they thought the same of their mothers. i look at my niece and i wonder what she sees in myself and my friends. i know that she emulates us, but what does she really see?

and the same goes for the guys. when i was in dc having dinner w/ honest (maybe if i link her she’ll be encouraged to actually update!) and hostess - hostess brought up the fact that she always asks the men that she dates about their male influences growing up. and that if they don’t have any, it’s a red flag. thinking about that now, i wonder how many women in light of the statistics expect their men to share the qualities of their fathers? and if not, where do they build the foundation of expectations for their mates?

my guess is that for the women - one of the reasons that our generation has lost some of the feminine qualities of our mothers is because we’ve been taught by that same generation to succeed and exceed their expectations. where they spent their childhood and adolescence being taught to be ladies, we were taught to be self-sufficient - largely because many fathers were not in the home (yet another blog topic that has been exhausted).

so now we own homes, pursue multiple degrees, vacation alone or with a group of friends and for some have even begun to dismiss the idea of ever having children. not to mention, many of us them have forgone men altogether…but that’s a whole ‘nother blog topic - one that i don’t think anyone is gonna touch - lol.

my question is, in light of the times and the recent history of our generation of several women growing up in fatherless homes - should the attributes of a ‘good woman’ or even a ‘good man’ for that matter, be redefined? i think my boy touched on some pretty solid characteristics - the most important of which is to note that NONE of those characteristics necessarily have to do w/ how pretty a woman thinks she still is, or how many degrees she has. in fact, his list is SO basic that one would think that most women fall into this category….but maybe not.

here’s his post. not sure if you can access it - but if you can, it’s food for thought. ‘kay…going back to work now….at 3:23AM….damn….

i found out on friday that my god-mother had passed away. the circumstances surrounding her death are suspicious at best. her car had been parked outside of her beau’s home since wednesday night - her body wasn’t discovered until friday morning…in his front yard, alcohol was in her system, etc. etc.

those details are neither here nor there. the thing that i’ve been pondering all weekend is life choices and how we come to several crossroads in our lives - one path leads us in one direction, another path may be completely opposite.

in my godmother’s case, as my mother and her friends reminisce - they say that her emotional crossroad was in 1981 - the day that her mother died. she blamed herself for the argument the day of - and she spiraled into a life of depression and severe alcohol abuse. couple that with a series of similar tragedies - the death of her father, her husband and as recently as one year ago - the death of her oldest daughter and here we are - finding her body in a strange neighborhood, days after her disappearance, under suspicious circumstances.

i have several friends that i talk to now that seem to be facing emotional crossroads. many of them are discouraged, many are depressed and i wonder….we are right around the same age that my godmother was when her first tragedy hit. i remember the “together” diva that she USED to be when i was a child. and i wonder….are my friends at their emotional crossroads? will they overcome their struggles or spiral downward, while the people that love them stand helplessly watching and waiting for the worst, while praying for the best?

i wonder…have i seen my emotional crossroad? i think about my worst places - my grandmother’s death, the day that i stood over not.the.one’s sleeping figure holding a knife and contemplating my story to the police - and i wonder….

i wonder if i’ve crossed the road between heaven and hell or is it yet to come? i wonder if my faith is enough or will i spiral downward when faced with adversity. i wonder if those who push through possess some kind of super human strength and if those who falter possess some kind of sub-human weakness. i wonder where will my friends be 10, 20, 30 years from now looking at their circumstances today. i wonder about “cool deej” and how her crossroads ended her up as the subject of an episode of ’snapped’. i wonder about “number 23″ and how she’s praying herself and pushing through her crossroads. i wonder about “jade” and how she’s taking each day as it comes, while surrounding herself with family and friends. i wonder about all of us and where we’ll be in 20-30 years. i wonder and i pray…….

um fellas? *wondering if any dudes actually still read this blog* that’s ok. even if you don’t see it today, it’ll be here in the archives waiting to be discovered.

fellas - c’mere….come a little closer - yeah you in the back - the twenty something, awkward looking one? come to the front of the group and have a seat. let’s have a little adam and eve meets mars and venus discussion. ladies, y’all don’t have to circle them, smirking like that. you know the dudes will start feeling all nervous and shyt. back up a bit. ‘kay. everyone comfy? cool.

so, let’s talk about this “swagger” thing. i really think that this is a term that has been overused and misunderstood. but there’s no point of having a funeral for it, like we did the N word. it’ll just re-invent itself into some other cool slang (i.e. denzelin’, having a colt 45 moment, whatever).

we might as well embrace it ‘cause it ain’t goin’ nowhere. first and foremost, let’s define it. anyone? anyone? ‘kay. you brave souls in the back that raised your hands? come to the front of the group because you’ll probably need to hear this. if you think that you can adequately define “swag”, then that prolly means you don’t have it and will need to move closer to take notes from your peers.

the thing is, as exasperated as my generation has become w/ the overuse of the term - it is something that needs to be discussed - especially as we begin to develop more upwardly mobile, gainfully employed african-american males. some of you seem to have mistakenly thought that by acquiring more education, a nicer wardrobe and some metro-sexual grooming tendencies you’ve magically stepped into that intangible, indescribable category of males that automatically ‘cause women to swoon and wish they’d worn a pantyliner. you haven’t.

it’s not you - the nerd that made good with a nice job and “paper perfect” credentials. it’s not you - the former high school/college jock with the beer belly. and it’s not you - the 40something rap “artist” still searching for a record deal. it’s not you-the shy guy reading a book. and it’s not you, the dude that’s still hitting up every party trying to play the part of the black paris hilton male socialite.

it’s the guy that doesn’t HAVE to do anything except be. he doesn’t have to hone his networking skill set, because people are automatically drawn to him. he doesn’t have to be a witty conversationalist because when he looks at a person, they somehow leave feeling as though they’ve made a genuine connection with that person. he doesn’t discuss his wardrobe or grooming habits. he doesn’t tell you that he’s a confident person, because he doesn’t have to. and when he walks into a room? he never announces his presence. he isn’t loud, boisterous, or very talkative for that matter. he rarely initiates conversation - not because he’s shy or nervous. it’s just that people tend to come to him.

but there’s no pre-determined criteria to that indescribable, intangible quality. it could very well be the nerd that made good, with his “paper perfect” credentials. it could be the former high school/college jock with the beer belly. it could be the 40 something rap “artist” still searching for a record deal. it could be the shy guy reading a book. it could be the dude hitting up every party like a black paris hilton male socialite. or it could be you, sitting here in the crowd.

jesus had it. the father in the grocery story has it. mlk had it. malcolm x had it. charles manson has it. hell, hitler had it. even the toddler w/ the charming smile has it.

the point is, it’s everything and it’s nothing. sure, it would be nice to possess the “spirit of billy dee” but it’s really not necessary to enjoy your quality of life. in the grand scheme of things, women just want their men to be men - be themselves - whether they are comfortable in a crowd full of people or in the privacy of their own homes. as long as you’re comfortable in your own skin, everything else will fall into place.

when i first met sunny, she was working in a barber and beauty salon. i swear fo’ God - barber and beauty salons are THE most blog worthy places EVER - men and women exchanging ideas while getting their grooming on? good times! there was this barber in the old spot named rashaan. he was muslim (we were located next door to a masque) that had the most intelligent - always ready for a debate and bean pie - clients EVER.

rashaan always used to call me lil’ ms. badu. he was the type that asked questions and peeped game. he said that my persona “made a n*gga wanna wear colorful legwarmers and wax poetic about the meaning of life and shyt”. lol! i didn’t talk much while in the chair, but i was always game to answer his questions and could hold my own w/ his male clients. to this day he still calls sunny and says “i miss lil’ ms. badu” - tell her i asked about her ‘cypher’.”

i used to not mind that comparison. even “creasy” (y’all folks on my private blog know who i’m talking ’bout) says that when we first met - in his mind my name blended w/ chanting, mediating, whole foods and the karma sutra (have i told y’all lately how much i HATE him - lol). anyway, i USED to think that neo-soul meant progressive. lauryn used to be profound. erykah used to be eclectic and india used to be multi-faceted.

now, i feel duped. these chicks are just as ghetto fabulous as khia, one-dimensional as foxxy, trashy as lil’ kim. have y’all seen THIS???? while frequenting my favorite gossip messageboard, i find myself arguing w/ broads about how it’s NOT COOL to have every guy that you find yourself in a relationship with skeet up in you. and that OOW children are NOT THE BUSINESS.

and yes, i get that things happen. i have a small number of friends that have had OOW kids, but they are NOT recurring situations - and most have eventually tied the know w/ their child’s parent either before anyone knew about the conception or immediately following the birth. here’s a comment that i made on the site after reading erykah’s - f*ck that- erica’s (just keepin’ it REAL) comments about “respecting the queendom” and “kissing her placenta” :

Seriously biz, the reality is that she lets the dudes that she sleeps w/ nut in her. No one is downing only her. Those dudes go into situations w/ her knowing that (and that she’s fertile and will keep the child), so everything that I say here also pertains to them.

So what if there are a million happily functioning 1/2 siblings from various OOW relationships? There are also a million happily functioning people w/ herpes. Just because it’s functional doesn’t mean that’s the way it “should” be - especially when it’s the result of a conscious decision.

And if y’all don’t agree w/ me y’all can kiss my cervix! and rashaan, don’t call me badu - EVER again. we ain’t nowhere NEAR the same cypher. hmph.

when i was younger people used to tell me that my eyes changed colors. i’ve never been able to tell because they’ve always seemed to me to be so dark brown that they were almost black. but for some reason folks used to say that they looked dark green at times. for the first time this weekend, when i looked into the mirror i thought that i saw some green flecks here and there.

i feel uncomfortable even posting this because it seems absolutely petty but y’all i think that i’ve been hit by the green-eyed bandit - you know - the one that wears those sweatpants w/ the words “juicy” “jealous much?” across the butt?

so, my roommate #11 is in town (writing this on saturday but it won’t post until tuesday). *as an aside, why do my posts always begin w/ “so” - i mean, i know i write like i’m talkin’ to y’all but i don’t ever do that in real conversation* sooooooo, she came as a surprise for my other roommate #23’s b-day. as i’ve told you guys in multiple posts my college roommates and i have a bond that’s indescribable. we’re the characters from every cheesy foursome flick (divine secrets of the ya ya sisterhood, girlfriends, sex & the city, waiting to exhale - hell, even sisterhood of the traveling damn pants) rolled into one. our personalities are soooo diverse - yet combined we make one HELLUVA woman.

well, over the years - we’ve gone our separate ways, established other friendships, expanded our horizons but we always stay true to each other. we don’t ever trip over our outside friendships. they are what they are, but they don’t feel the space that either of shares - at least until now.

#11, forged a friendship w/ a group of linesisters when they lived in NY and she and another one of the LSs have become very close. so much so that it’s gotten to the point where, when she comes here it’s understood that she’s rooming w/ her - although all 3 of us other roomies live here in ATL.

normally, i don’t mind but this trip just has me feeling all out of sorts. we didn’t spend any 4some time together and we barely got the chance to chat - let alone bond as a unit like we normally do. it’s been 3 years since we’ve spent that quality time together and i miss it!

it’s not like i haven’t talked to her in a while either. we spent some quality time while i was in dc last month and i was the first person that she told about being pregnant. MAN, that was a tough secret to keep for the last month! maybe it’s because earlier in the week i watched “sisterhood of the traveling pants” and “sex & the city” all on the same day and bawled my eyes out because i miss our “full house” experience.

am i being possessive about my friendship? maybe. we all turn 33 this year - not 13, so it seems a little foolish. i am the LAST person to get all jealous and petty about my friends so i don’t know where this emotion is coming from. the last time i was this possessive was over the black baby doll in the toy box at nursery school - and that did not end well at ALL. let’s just say that there was a girl with a scratch on her face and i took the doll home w/ me that afternoon. lol! i dunno. *sigh* all i can say is that it’s not easy being green. i wish i could shake this feeling, but for now - i can’t!

i know some of you just looked at your bloglines list and thought “what the hell?!?!??” um…yeah, beloved’s back (and yes, i can talk about myself in the 3rd person dammit). maybe i’m not the “anonymuse” that i used to be but who cares? you know that i’m all about reinventing myself - so here i am! *yawn - stretch - slowly removing a cobweb from my eyelash*

so here’s the deal about this blog. i like love it. we had some good times here, no? i am STILL pissed at myself for deleting “woman thou art loosed!!!” < ---- with three exclamation points 'cause i was REALLY trying to prove a point and convince myself back then, right? yeah, whatever.

so y'all know that i promised to leave this blog up to mark the good (and not so good times) and i'm glad that i did! i still can't believe that this thing has been hanging out in the blogosphere for 3 years now! remember the mass exodus over here to blogsome bay from blogspot? remember the house warming gifts? remember the homeowners association? remember the fines? remember me deleting.my.damn.blog!! remember when i was trying to be all authentic and true to myself and wouldn't allow comments on this new one? remember blog love? remember me packing up my shyt and moving back to the hood blogspot? well, hell i'm STILL there, but i digress.

as i said over on "subject to change", i'm really not at a point to keep only writing about me. and of course, there's more than just me to think about now. i'll still do it from time to time, but over in that spot - not here. and i really am going to take the time out to actually maintain "if muzik were love" , because if y'all know ~B~ y'all know that i love writing about love and i love music, so the two will forever merge in my mind.

i want to write here, too - not on a regular basis 'cause y'all know that i'm good about making promises that i damn sure can't keep - but just about random things that cross my mind. at least here you can subscribe to bloglines so that you'll know when i update as opposed to just guessing on my private spot.

so, while i'm setting up shop and waiting for some of y'all to figure out that i'm back, i figure i need to give myself some new rules (feel free to add i omit something) :

NEW RULE!