Sometimes, You Just Can't Fix Stupid.

Being a recently returned student, I know how much exams suck.  They stress you out and drive you batshit crazy for a few weeks before.  I get that.  But you know what I wouldn’t do?  Call in a bomb threat to avoid one.

Some of you may or may not know this, but a Harvard student did that earlier this week.  That’s right.  This asshat e-mailed a bomb threat to avoid taking his exam and had 4 buildings evacuated in the process!  A Harvard student.  An Ivy League student.  What the hell is this world coming to???

Like I said before, I know how much exams suck.  I remember taking some of the most difficult exams of my life while I was in college the first time.  Music History tortured me!  Music Theory wrecked me!  My tap dance final almost killed me, literally!  Ok, I had bronchitis at the time and didn’t know it, and had to perform at a recital for my exam.  So, it literally almost killed me.  I was instructed by the doctor to not get out of bed for 3 days, no exceptions!  True story.

However, never in a million years, would I ever threaten my school, fellow students, and hard working faculty to get out of taking one.  That’s just idiocracy at its finest.  Congratulations, you have now earned time in a federal prison instead of a degree from one of the most prestigious universities in the country, and possibly, the world.  Now, you get to become someone’s bitch.  I hope you’re proud!

An Open Letter to the Cyclists of Boston

Dear Bicyclists of Boston,

From a very young age, I was taught that if you are on a bicycle, you are considered to be on a vehicle and you should obey all traffic laws, like traffic lights or stop signs.  Apparently, I’m extremely wrong based on the nasty looks I get when trying to cross at a crosswalk with the “Walk” sign.

Don’t get me wrong.  I commend people who bike to work.  It’s good for your health, good for the environment, and saves on gas.  However, this does not give you the right to be a douche bag.  You are entitled to NOTHING!  Pedestrians still have the right of way!

Blowing through a red light, biking through a large group of people in the crosswalk, and looking at us like we’re the assholes is unacceptable!  You should in no way, shape, or form be an exception to the rule!  You are not special!  If you get your own designated lane on a city street, you should obey all the laws that apply!  End of story!

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had to dodge cyclists plowing through a large group of people on their way to work.  So many times, I’ve wanted to throw something into their spokes... but I don’t.  I stead, I yell my displeasure with them using some very colorful metaphors (Thank you, Star Trek 4 for that description).  Playing Frogger to survive my commute and get to work safely is not my idea of a good time.  It’s bad enough the drivers around here are such inconsiderate twats!  One too many times have I been “pushed” by an on-coming car slamming to a halt because they weren’t paying attention to the pedestrian crosswalk.  It’s a damn good thing I work for an awesome orthopedic surgeon!  At least I know I would be well taken care of.

My point is don’t be a dick.  That is the main moral of the story.  Everyone, I’m sure, will agree with this statement. 

Sincerely,
Fed up Pedestrian

Vertigo, not just an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting much lately.  In case you don’t already know, I’ve been dealing with a pretty nasty case of vertigo for the past week.  If you have never had the joy of experiencing this, let me paint you a nice little picture...

Imagine, if you will, sitting on a boat on calm waters.  You get up and don’t realized exactly how not calm the waters are.  You try to regain your footing while being bounced from side to side.  Now, take away that boat and water, but keep the sensation.  Yup, that’s where I’m at right now.  Everything gives me that feeling!  If I turn my head, blink my eyes, stand up, sir down, or fight, fight, fight!, it’s still there.  I cannot escape it no matter what I do.

This happened to me just a few short months ago, in June.  My primary doctor told me it was called Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo and was told it would go away with time.  They gave me some drugs, pat me on the head (not too hard), and sent me on my way.  Eventually, it did go away and I was able to get my bearings back.

Well, it has reared its ugly head yet again and has rendered me helpless.  This time, I took no chances.  I went to see a specialist for vertigo and he came back with the same answer; it will go away with time.  This just frustrates me because I’m off balance and walking like a toddler.  What am I supposed to do between now and when it decides to take a hike?  Last time, I suffered through it.  I suppose I will have to do the same this time, again.

I wanted to throw this out there in case anyone had any suggestions or cures.  I’ve been offered a Cure Moderate Wounds, Remove Curse, Spiritual Hammer, or all three to be cast at once (bonus points if you understand the references).  I suggested a Restoration spell, but I had to wait an extra 24 hours, plus a flight to Boston because I’m out of range for my Touch AC. 

For now, I’ll suffer with a pounding headache, ringing in my ears, and a “swooshy” feeling just praying this goes away.  If you need me, I’ll be under the covers in my squishy bed.  If I don’t come back in a week, forward my mail.

Confessions of a Part-Time Urban Ranger: My Life in the Gaming World

I love games!  I love gaming!  This is a big part of my life, but some people don’t really get it.  So, let me break it down for you.  Gaming is an outlet.  Gaming helps me get away from my daily life and socialize with friends.  It also lets me kill shit and get cool stuff in the process.  Let me break it down a little bit further.

When I was in college, I was introduced to gamers.  One of my good friends, Art, asked me if I would be interested in coming to a game over the weekend called Vampire: The Masquerade.  The players did something called Live Action Role Playing, or LARPing.  I had no idea what to expect.  I was very interested and I wanted to learn more.  After all, I was in college and I wanted to get the most out of my experience while I was there.  I get to hang out with cool, new people and step out of my comfort zone 1 night every 2 weeks. 

I was so nervous the first time I stepped onto the scene.  Art took me aside and explained how everything worked.  We made decisions and resolved “combat” via Rock, Paper, Scissors.  There were rules to abide by: No touching, no alcohol, no drugs, and have fun.  He told me to sit back and observe for a little bit to see if I would be interested in joining.

The first interaction happened with players and I sat there watching in utter awe.  There were arguments, “fights”, tests, you name it!  I was hooked!  I knew I wanted to get involved!  I sat down with Art, wrote up a character with a pretty bitchin’ back story, and I haven’t looked back since.

This opened me up to different experiences, different people, and different kinds of games.  I’ve played board games that most people have never heard of that are really great and fun.  I’ve demonstrated new games that have just hit the market.  I’ve attended conventions specifically for games.  I’ve helped run games for other people at said conventions.  Hell, I met my husband at one!  This has been a big part of my life and I wouldn’t change that for the world. 

With that history lesson aside, let me tell you what gaming has really done for me.  It has helped develop my problem solving skills.  When faced with a huge challenge, my party (or fellow players) and I develop a plan.  We discuss who should do what and when.  Sometimes, we have to use our weapons to help defeat the encounter.  Sometimes, we need to use our words to get what information we need.  It’s a great way to interact with people and you learn a lot about yourself, trust me.  What I didn’t expect is the stigma that goes along with such a hobby.

I remember when I was younger hearing about Dungeons & Dragons.  I had no idea what it was all about, but I knew that only really “weird” people got involved in this.  The older I got, the more I was proved wrong about this.  You would be amazed who are gamers now; celebrities, professional athletes, every day people you would never think would be involved.  It seems to becoming more popular, but I still get the raised eyebrows.

It’s even worse if you’re a female.  This seems to put you in a more uncomfortable situation.  The first time I attended GenCon, I was surrounded by women who were dressed very scantily clad.   This was the first experience I had with costume playing, or Cosplay.  At the time, I felt a little uncomfortable because I would never wear something that revealing!  At the same time, I was jealous of those who walked around and didn’t give a shit what other people thought.  They were having fun!  I was all about having fun.  I started to Cosplay with what I had and I came out more and more.  Again, it let me step out of my reality into a fantasy world where everyone was awesome.  However, women were expected to wear next to nothing.  That is the way of the gaming world.  How else are they going to get guys to buy their games?  Put hot, half-naked chicks on the cover!  Makes sense, right?  Let me explain how much that sucks.

The first time I walked into our local game store, it was like a scene out of “The Big Bang Theory”.  Everyone stopped and looked at me all because I was female.  The whole store STOPPED AND STARED!  It was really uncomfortable and kind of embarrassing.  I started to look at some of the games on the shelves, the books they had available, but all eyes were still on me.  Let me stop you right there: No, I am not here to drop off/pick up my little brother/son for a Pokémon tournament!  Yes, I have breasts!  Yes, I am here on my own agenda to buy things!  Oh, THE HORROR!  Get over it!

I’m currently in 3 tabletop games: Star Wars and 2 Pathfinder games.  I get to sit around a table, roll some dice, kill some cool shit, and be an all-around bad-ass!  I don’t get to do that in real life.  It’s fun to step into an alternate reality where I am a force to be reckoned with!  I enjoy the fantasy.  I am not so sucked into the fantasy to try and harm others.  This is a stigma I wish to squash. 

Think of it as interactive storytelling and YOU are the main character!  You have friends that support you along the way.  But most of all, IT’S A GAME!  I don’t see people losing their shit when they find out their children play Monopoly!  Do you think they are going to turn into slum lords or millionaires??  You played Battleship as a kid?  Then you must be a war loving, ship bombing psychopath, right?  WRONG!  All around wrong!  It’s a creative way for creative people to get together and have fun.  If you don’t understand it, try it sometime.  If you don’t wish to understand it, piss off and let the rest of us have our fun!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a gnoll to shoot with my bitchin’ bow! 

Give me your opinion on the matter.  What games do you like to play?  What do you think of “gamer geeks”?  GAMERS UNITE!

Oh, Boston, you're my home!: My Account of the Boston Marathon Bombings

Please note: This is a very sensitive subject for me and the citizens of Boston.  There are definitely words of anger in this post and strong language.  You have been warned.

Monday, April 15, 2013 started out like your typical Marathon Monday.   People come from around the country, and the world, to witness this event.  This makes driving in Boston a bitch, despite the fact that people love it.  I always get a lot of cancelations due to heavy traffic and locals don’t want to deal with it. 

As in usual fashion, I got up and got ready for work.  Luckily, I work about 2 miles away from the finish line.  In Bostonian, that means I’m at least a good 10 minutes away (no joke) because Boston streets are set up like some drunk got a hold of an Etch-a-Sketch.  Also, I get to work around 7:00am and there is very little traffic (and people) around during that time, just other medical staff for the surrounding hospitals.  So, I had that on my side.

I work for an Orthopedic Trauma surgeon at Brigham and Women’s Hospital.  The best in the business as far as I’m concerned, but I may be a little biased.  He’s a brilliant surgeon and an all around great guy.  I couldn’t say enough good things about him at this point, and later you’ll find out exactly why.

Monday clinics are always crazy.  We usually have about 50+ patients for the day and I get called down to schedule surgery for patients who need it urgently done.  This was my first day back after a week-long visit to my sister and her family in Georgia.  I got tons of phone calls and returned calls that I received over the weekend.  I was also catching up on some things that were left for me.  Everything seemed to be running in Monday fashion. 

My husband and I instant message each other while we work.  We keep each other caught up on current events and discuss important things, like what to have for dinner or what we need to get from the store.  It was around 3:00 that afternoon and all was well.  Then, I got the first instant message from Jim...

“Did you hear there was an explosion at the Marathon?”

I immediately turned to my coworkers.  “Did you hear there were explosion at the Marathon?” 

“No.  It’s probably a manhole cover or something”, said one of my coworkers. 

I turned back to my computer.  “No, what happened??  I haven’t been on the news yet.”

“They’re reporting people are missing limbs.  They’re saying it was a bomb.”

At that moment, I went right on the web.  I read a breaking news story about 2 confirmed explosions at the finish line on Boston.Com.  I couldn’t believe what I was reading.  How could this happen?  How could someone defile an event that was about endurance, good will, and the human spirit?  I was in total shock. 

The first thing that came to my head was my friend, Ally.  She had run in the Marathon the year before and I thought she had said she was running it again.  I got really scared.  I sent her a message on Facebook.

“Please let us know you’re ok.  Everyone’s worried.”  By everyone, I meant me.  I wanted to make sure someone I knew was safe.  Considering what was going on, that’s what everyone did.

An announcement of one of our codes was called over the intercom.  I’ll be honest where I’m seated I never heard it.  All I know is that everyone started to panic.  

Another one of my coworkers came up to me and she looked scared.

“We’re on lock down!  What does that mean?  Are we going to be allowed to go home?”  No one knew what to do, not even the management staff.  We had no information and no idea what was going on.  All we knew was that shit was about to get real.

I let Jim know right away.

“The hospital is on lock down.”

“What does that mean?  Will you be able to come home??”  I knew Jim was starting to worry at this point. 

“I don’t know.  I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

We did find out that we were allowed to leave the building as long as we had our ID badges on us.  I wear mine all day, so that was nothing new to me.  I just didn’t take it off this dreadful day.  I just wanted to go home and be with my husband.

As I waited for the bus, I watched so many ambulances go by and heard more in the distance.  We were one of the hospitals to get those victims because we were so close to the finish line.  I received dozens of messages via Facebook asking if I was ok.  I sent out a post assuring everyone that I was fine and on my way home. 

The bus ride home was very somber and surreal.  It was very quiet and everyone just kept looking for updates and more information.  Everyone looked exhausted and dumbfounded.  We were all in shock.  I was almost home when I got a return message from Ally.

“I am ok!  My cousin (who was running) finished shortly before the bomb went off but she is ok.  Everyone I know that was running is safe.  Thank you for your thoughts!”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  She was ok.  It was a little comforting knowing she was safe.

Little did I know my surgeon had finished his clinic and was eating when he got the page.  According to other people in the area, he ran down the hallway like a shot to the Emergency Department to help.  He helped head up the response team in the ED for the victims.  He went in and took charge.  That’s what he does.  I wish I could’ve seen him in action!

That night, I sat in horror as images from the Marathon made their way onto the news and the web.  The more reports rolled in, the more gruesome the images got.  That’s when I first learned that an 8-year-old boy had been killed in the blasts.  A poor innocent child had his life taken by this horrible act.  I was heartbroken, saddened, and most of all PISSED OFF!  How dare someone try to terrorize MY town, my home?  I thought about all of the awful, sadistic, and painful things I would do to the person... no, scratch that... waste of flesh and bone.  I was so angry and heartbroken, I wept myself to sleep.   

The rest of the week was sort of a blur.  I found out that Mayor Menino started The One Fund the very next day to help victims and their families affected by the blasts.  There was such an outpouring of donations and support they reached $10 million dollars by the end of the first week.  This restored my faith in humanity.  It made me realize that there were still honest, loving, and caring people out there.  Every citizen of Boston band together in a way I can’t describe.  It was a beautiful and touching thing to see happen before my eyes.  I still get a lump in my throat when I think about how people ran towards danger to help those in need, instead of running away to save themselves.

Friday, April 19 I woke up to my alarm and got ready for work.  I set my alarm for the radio, not that horrible buzzer.  While I was getting ready, Jim stood there listening to the radio.  I remember hearing something about a shoot out, an MIT officer on duty was killed, and another officer was wounded.  I’m in such a daze in the morning that I only caught tidbits of the report. 

I when downstairs to put my shoes on and Jim said the weirdest thing.

“The T is shut down.” 

For those of you not familiar with the area, the T is the MBTA trains.  And they were shut down.  Completely shut down.  This sort of thing doesn’t happen unless is a state of emergency.   I was stunned.

“Huh?  What do you mean the T is shut down?”

“I mean the T is shut down; no trains in or out of Boston.  It has to do with that shoot out in Watertown.”

My response was not the most typical thing.

“Shit!  How am I supposed to get to work?  I can’t drive in!”

“I’ll leave the car for you in case they open back up before the day is out.”

Jim had nothing to worry about.  He worked in another town.  He didn’t have to go anywhere near Boston.  I, on the other hand, work right in the heart of the beast.  I wasn’t allowed to park at the hospital so the patients could use the parking.  I had to take public transportation.  My way to work was at a stand-still.    I had no choice but to call in to work.  The city of Boston shut itself down to find the monsters responsible for this. 

I’m going to let you in on a little secret; Boston does not fuck around.  We will find you.  We will shut everything down, lock everyone out, and find you.  We are a no bullshit kind of people.  If you mess with us, then you will be in world of hurt.  Everyone will band together and bring you to justice.  This is the city that STARTED the American Revolution.  Ask the British about how well they faired.  We will hunt you down like the animal you are!  Make no mistake about that! 

Needless to say, I did not make it in to work that day.  I watched the news all day in anticipation of the bombers being caught.  The T was up and running around 6:00 when the city had finished their door-to-door searches.  Everyone cooperated until that son-of-a-bitch was found.  He was put in custody and we were all able to sleep a little better that night knowing he was off the street.

All and all, 3 people were murdered by the cowardly acts of 2 wastes of space that day and another was murdered in cold blood for no other reason than to get his gun.  One terrorist is in jail, and one was used as a speed bump so the other one could get away.  I think about those people every day I walk through the doors of my hospital, knowing we played a role in helping some of those victims.  It warms my heart knowing that my surgeon was directly involved in the care of those affected by the tragedy.  It breaks my heart thinking of those who died for no reason whatsoever. 

Next year, I look forward to Marathon Monday knowing that this city stood together and spit in the face of terror.  We will honor those we lost and run for those still in recovery.  We formed bonds that cannot be broken.  We proved we are Boston Strong.

...And then, they swarmed us...

"Go to Peddock's Island", they said.  "It'll be fun", they said.  What a bunch of liars!

My Saturday started out like any normal Saturday.  My husband, Jim, our friend, Matt, and myself made plans a few days before to go to Peddock's Island.  For those of you not familiar with the area, Peddock's Island is one of the Boston Harbor Islands and was used in the filming of "Shutter Island" with Leonardo DiCaprio.  It has beaches, camp sites, historical buildings... and bugs.  Lots and lots of bugs.

Jim and I were at our house getting ready to meet Matt for breakfast when I made a critical observation.

"We should stop and get bug spray.  Ours is dead."

Jim had a logical reply.  "Use the Skintastic stuff in the cupboard."

My reply, not so much.  "I don't like that stuff.  It makes my skin all sticky.  I want to get the Off Dry spray.  I like that so much better.  Do you mind if we stop and pick some up?  Besides, we can't really take it with us.  I don't want to leave your mom without bug spray, in case she goes into the garden."

Jim, Matt, and I met up and went out for breakfast.  I had a pancake with syrup.  Jim and Matt had eggs or an omelet.  I mentioned getting bug spray again in the car.

"What do we need bug spray for?", asked Matt.

"Well, we're going to be surrounded by trees and I'm sure there will be bugs."

"We'll be on an island.  I'm sure it won't be that bad."  Famous last words...

We got to Boston and bought our tickets to go from George's Island (another Harbor Island) to Peddock's Island.  We waited about an hour for our ferry to arrive and, in Massachusetts fashion, it was late.  A camping group behind us in line had to catch the same shuttle ferry that we had to catch because they were headed to a different island as well.  Our ferry called ahead to hold the shuttle ferry until we were able to get there.  As soon as we docked, we had to practically knock people over to jump onto the shuttle ferry.  I thought that would be the worst part of the day.

We got to the island and we were greeted by a creepy looking church right on the shore.  All of the windows were boarded up and it looked very weather-beaten.  Right away, I knew I had to get a picture of it.  We stopped to grab a few shots before leaving the dock.  We went into the Welcome Center, hoping to buy some bottles of water.  We were wrong.  They didn't sell anything on the island, like the bigger ones.  I looked to the right and saw the desk that the park ranger was sitting at.  On it, was a bottle of bug spray.  I thought about asking if I could use some, but felt kind of silly.  Maybe Matt was right.  How bad could it be?

We started down a trail that led to the buildings used in the filming of "Shutter Island".  This was the point of our trip.  We only had an hour before our return ferry came back, so we had to act fast.  Along the trail, we saw a random set of steep, cement stairs with no hand rails.  As we carefully made our way up the stairs, I had an itchy feeling on my left calf.  I smacked my calf and looked down to see a small smear of blood.  I knew it!  I figured since it was just the one so far, I'd be OK.  The farther we walked, the more we smacked and swatted.

After about 10 minutes or so of walking, we came to an unpaved path.  This was the path we had to take to get to the location of all the cool buildings.  We walked farther into the tall grass along our path.  We found a couple of beaches and some people sunbathing.  We stopped to take a couple of pictures of the Boston sky line and enjoy the view.  We turned the corner and walked through a rusty chain-link fence.

Jokingly, Matt said, "This is how most horror movies start out."

... And then, they swarmed us...

I've never seen so many mosquitoes in my life!  Those blood-sucking bastards were all over us!  The more we killed, the more landed on us.  They covered Jim's back, Matt's head, and my... everything.  We swatted, smacked, and cursed!  We were about half way to our destination, but it just wasn't worth it.  The swarm was too great.  This traveling party made the best decision... we headed back to town.

"HOLY SHIT, MEL!  LOOK AT YOUR LEGS!", Matt exclaimed looking at me from behind.  I had welts the size of quarters all over my legs, arms, shoulders, and neck.  One of those little fuckers even got my face!  MY FACE!  My legs and arms were covered in my blood and the carcasses of those winged douche bags. 

We got back to the Welcome Center and wiped down our bodies with some Wet Naps I happened to have on hand.  We assessed the carnage.  When everything was said and done, I had over 40 mosquito bites on my body.  "Oh, baby!  I'm so sorry!", Jim said looking at me with a look of pity on his face.  All I could do was laugh. 

"Well, we did say it looked like the beginning of a horror movie and it sure as hell ended like one!"  What else could I say?  I wasn't going to sit around and mope about it.  I still had to get back to Boston.  The three of us made the best of the situation. 

We ended Mosquito-Palooza 2013 with dinner in the North End of Boston.  I had a couple of drinks to numb the itching.  I still enjoyed the day, regardless of the previous events. 

Today, I'm doing well.  It's hard for me to sleep because everything rubs on my legs and they start to itch like crazy!  I've been woken up a few times during the night because of the relentless itching, but I'm slowly recovering.

The moral of the story, boys and girls... ALWAYS BRING BUG SPRAY!

Alice Cooper, you lied to me!

School may be out for summer, but it most definitely IS NOT out forever!

As you may have guessed, this is about my attempt to go back to school.  Let me start from the beginning...

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away... (cue Star Wars music)

I graduated from high school in 1997.  After graduation, I enrolled at a local community college with intentions of transferring to a university, earning my bachelor's in English, getting my teaching degree, and becoming an English teacher.  Well, sometimes things don't work out quite how you plan it.

The community college I attended was wonderful!  I had awesome professors, small class sizes, and felt really comfortable there.  I finally felt like I belonged.  Then 3 years later (yes, 3 years), I transferred the university I wanted.  When I got there, I was not welcomed with open arms.  I felt little and alone.  I hated it.  Life happened and I only went for only 1 year.  I never returned.  And I have been kicking myself ever since.

I ran out of money to pay for school.  I was absolutely lost.  I had the resources of how to get back on my feet, but never thought to use them.  I figured I could work for a year and go back after I saved some money.  I wanted to do this on my own.  I wanted to prove I was an adult.  One year turned into two... and three... and four... So, 12 years later, here I am.

Going back to earn my degree was one of those "You know, I should really..." or "Next year, I'm going to..." slacker moments.  Until, I finally gave myself the kick in the ass I needed.

One morning, I woke up to gather with a couple of friends to do a 20 mile charity walk.  While doing this walk, we all talked about what we were doing, where we wanted to go, and how we were planning our futures.  It was at that moment I came to the realization that I was tired of being afraid to go after what I want in life.  Damn it, I was going to get off my lazy ass, apply for financial aid, apply (and get accepted) into a school, and earn my bachelor's degree... tomorrow.  That was 4 months ago.

Last week, after much deliberation, I bit the bullet and applied to a local college.  I got accepted and was so excited that I'm finally doing what I set out to do so many years ago.  And let me tell you, I'm terrified!  These kids are going to look at me and probably wonder what the hell I'm doing there.  I will probably think the same thing at some point during this venture.  All I know is that I've earned this.  I've paid my dues and I'm ready to cash in. 

Hopefully when school really is indeed out forever for me, I'll be a happier person.  But until then, let the misery ensue!

A new beginning...

Welcome one and all!

Well, as you may have guessed, I am a self proclaimed slacker.  It has taken me a long time to do quite a few things, including this blog.  I keep saying, "I'm going to start/do (fill-in the activity of your choice) soon."  Soon never comes... that is, until today.

You guessed it, ladies and gentlemen.  I have finally gotten off of my ass to get this thing moving!

I love to write.  I think about it all the time and this is what it's all about.  I've written some really messed up stuff in my life, but it has never seen the light of day.  The reason?  I'm terrified of what people will think and/or say about my writing, or that it might get locked away for "observation".  Well, today my writing breaks free.  I will warn you right now that I'm sure somewhere along the line, I will offend people with what I have to say.  Again, I WILL OFFEND PEOPLE.  I've got a big mouth and I'm not afraid to use it. 

My advise to you: If I offend you, let me know.  If you're easily offended, this will not be the blog for you.  I'm willing to put my opinion out there about anything and everything. 

So please, be gentle.  After all, this is my first time....