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weird things

Baggage, Kids Stuff and Hairless Pigs

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The word BORING is not a word you can use to describe Cross Point Nashville.  This weekend is a perfect example of how many amazing (and maybe weird) things can happen on the west side of Nashville.

A Wasted Meme?

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Someone tagged me with a meme where I'm supposed to list six weird things about me. Sorry, but there's nothing weird about me at all. I tried to think of something but to no avail.

It’s a damn good thing I don’t wear mascara.

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I have no grand idea for what to post today.  This is going to be one of those posts where I just sat down and said, “You know what?  I’m in a #@%* mood, and I’m going to write about what I’m feeling right now.”

So, um.  Sorry, in advance.

Because it’s been one of those days.

Coming Unglued on Curtiswood Lane

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The overprivileged occupants of Curtiswood Lane, unfamiliar with the sound of the word no, have met their match in Tennessee first lady Andrea Conte, and weird things are happening in the neighborhood as she digs a big hole in the front yard of the governor’s mansion for Conservation Hall. Cats are talking, one neighbor is throwing hissy fits on the street, and another is fretting that Osama bin Laden has placed “Bredesen’s Bunker” on his list of targets.

It’s all downhill from here

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I’m starting to feel like a person again.  These meds do weird things to me, mentally, physically, and emotionally.  I’ll be glad when I can stop taking them all together.

links for 2008-01-10

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Happy Birthday Mom

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I'm trying to think of my favorite memory of my mother. Instead I think of the most comforting.

I had a lot of bad dreams as a kid. Very vivid, very terrifying, very real. Some of them made me do weird things.

Once in the middle of the night my mother found me in the bathroom, on my knees, praying with my head on the cold sink.

In my mind was a horrible reaper. I remember it to this day. His image seared into me, and me wishing to get rid of it.

Dear God, I

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