Sometime I hear this little voice inside my head. I am pretty sure it is an evil Jimminy Cricket or something else as terrifying to small children. It tries to tell me that I need to scrap something that I have slaved over and start over. This process resulted in many surprisingly high grades on papers I wrote in a half hour, under duress, the night before it was due. I don't really think I should apply my college strategy for life, but we'll see if I can incorporate the new with the old without going dotty. (Someone actually felt they needed to define that last term in church today. I was notably shocked.)

I was happily ensconced in the wonder that is our fairly new reclining sectional this morning when I realized I had forgot to shove a load of unruly towels into the washer. I was a little embarrassed since I had informed my husband last night that I don’t mind the joys of laundry, dishes, sweeping, cooking (and baking), and such. I enjoy being the laziest woman who was ever accused of being a domestic goddess. Not only is the work rewarding in that cleanliness is next to godliness, but it gives me plenty of time for all my other obsessions. Of course, I cycle through them at a high rate of speed, but someday accomplishment may come from my efforts.

My other two journals have experienced a dearth of posts since no one seemed interested enough to comment on their validity as entertainment. Of course, it seems some of my work is not appreciated until many years later. Wife number one discovered Fluffette, Belle, and BoomBoom Kitty, which prompted her to send me a very amusing birthday card. (Yes, you missed delicious chocolate cake with a hint of peanut butter last month). I wonder if I should post it as a fanfic. I shall continue to ponder that as I move on…at light speed.

Thanks to my husband’s wonderful birthday gift, I have been struggling with the fact that some small part of my fractured psyche thinks it is a musician. I come up with lyrics on a fairly regular basis. I don’t mean poetry though some of my poetry would probably lend itself to being sung. This is words that fall together and want to be sung. These urges are awkward in crowds of people as I can’t let them out without causing deafness and possibly regurgitation. My voice is an untrained weapon of war. That is my own harsh critique of it, but I haven’t got input that proves this wrong. Usually, I get “I can’t hear you” since I was told to sing alto and I don’t know what that means (I was singing soprano, apparently, because the sopranos were too loud) or that is followed by a compliment to the person standing next to me for having a nice loud voice (I maintain my voice can follow pretty well). This problem usually makes me dust off my poor lonely guitar, trim my nails, and try again to teach myself to play. I think a little more discipline would help here or someone offering me encouragement or tips. *jaw hits floor* I think I just had a brain wave. Time to send a stalker e-mail to wife number 6…

I've come around again to teaching myself to play the guitar. It has been waiting patiently next to my bed for attention for a few months, so I transported it downstairs where it can taunt me while I watch television. The prognosis from day three is that my fingers may be too short. The fingering is starting to feel a little less unnatural. I have to ignore the blossoming pain in my non-callused finger tips to notice this, but it is still there. I may be able to play sometime this upcoming decade. I can say that with a little hope as the decade hasn't really gotten underway yet.

Other than this, I have little entertainment to share. I have subjects I could talk about for hours, but who would listen? Probably not even me.

I had to trim my fingernails again in the interests of playing my guitar. It is much easier to hold down the strings when my nails aren't making them keep their distance. I am not sure this small effort will improve my guitar-playing abilities. That may require me to remember how to learn new things. It has been a while since I tried to do something that I don't seem to a natural at doing.

I have also been trying to sort through the ideas in my head again. I have started two more novels. I realize this lowers the probability that I will ever finish one, but that is the way my mind works. After all, they are so interesting in my head that someone else would certainly want to read the finished product, right?

Sadly, that is about all I have to report. I wonder what is going on in the world of my readers. It's been a while since any of them dropped me a line...

It was another average day in the life of a relaxing diva. I spent most of my time with my sweetie. The one hour I spent away from him was marked by my incredible hearing. Maybe watching too much Angel has rubbed off on me. I happened to hear someone say my name from across the room. I also noted that they were discussing me and my boyfriend. Is it really so hard to believe that I am married? Needless to say, my impression of such a person was not improved by this.

I also got some updates on the lives of family members. I could start talking about that, but that's probably the infamous TMI that is spoken of.

"The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings." ~Eric Hoffer, Reflections On The Human Condition

...once I have made up my mind, they shouldn't try to change it for me.

...my time is valuable and if I offer them an hour and they want six, I can rescind my original offer.

...most of the time, I know exactly what I am talking about.

...I always know what I am thinking even if it disturbs me.

...you really can't do better than the man who already made you his wife and treats you like a queen.

...they are not the higher power. If they were, they wouldn't be here irritating other people.

...I worry way too much about everything.

...I really do appreciate my husband and his great love for me.

...the behaviors of our parents really does affect us.

I did my due diligence as a wife and daughter-in-law today by passing on my husband's wish list for his birthday. Now I have to find the perfect gift to give him. I've been told to give a male a female of approximately the same age as a gift, but he already has me, so I guess that would be too easy. I have a few ideas. We'll have to see which one(s) make the cut. After all, it's been a while since I wrapped a birthday present. I wonder if that makes me a bad person...

I know it has been a while. I have just been so busy making the rounds that I didn't think to make time to send words into the ether. I decided to break with that trend before I make more exciting ventures. Let us see what my brain thinks is important to share:

Last Friday, Little Mr. Kewl, son of Miss Kewl, had surgery in Baltimore. As Baltimore is closer to my new home than his residence, I decided to drive out to visit with him (and his momma, of course). I was a little nervous about this expedition as I found my way to the slums last time I drove to Baltimore. I even parked in a parking garage, which only served to remind me that people with short arms should put less space between their car and the ticket dispenser. Then I got my exercise for the day by walking all the way across the hospital to the children's section. LMK tended to stare at with with disinterest until I had to leave for a girl date. Then he cheered up and smiled and waved byebye. I think he was just excited to have mommy and daddy to himself. I don't blame him. He was having a rough day. For those who worry, he seems to be doing better and goes in for a check-up today.

Anyway, some may know that last Friday was my second wife and only daughter-in-law's birthday, so while I waited for my ride, I placed a call. As I tried to chat with people milling about and cars driving by, they got distracted by their car refusing to start. I started having flashbacks. Sadly, the flashbacks didn't make me useful, so I felt I should let them go and get back to them later. Perhaps, I could have phrased it better than saying, "Maybe I should call you when I am not standing on a busy street corner," but then what would I giggle merrily to myself about.

Shortly after that, a sexy car pulled over to pick me up. A sexy woman was driving it, so one can now imagine why I enjoy date night so much. We drove to the inner harbor and began searching for fun places to shop. We roamed through Goodwill, a few clothing stores, and a store that sold fudge. I behaved myself and left all of them without any bags of junk or junk food. Of course, wife number six was kind enough to share some fudge with me. My friends are amazing. Sometimes, though, I wonder why they are friends with me. I can be rather dull.

Anyway, life got a little less exciting after that. My diet got less healthy, however. I have baked double chocolate rocky road muffins, brownies, peanut butter cookies with choco chips, and a fudgy pudding cake since then. The people who were invited to share in the sugar didn't seem to have any complaints.

In fact, when I visited a friend to drop off some muffins, she approved of them despite the fact that they crumbled and gave her shirt brown polka dots. I haven't heard back about the kid's reaction since they didn't notice the muffins until shortly before I left. They did decide I was funny though. That was even after a conversation where I had to pause repeatedly because my brain kept throwing out huge words and I couldn't find a kid-friendly translation in my head.

Of course, the cake was for my husband. Yesterday was his birthday and he got to celebrate about four hours of it with me. I even made him a homemade pizza. Some day, I might get exciting to more than just the tummies of those around me...Maybe.

When one begins taking more long trips than they ever would have considered, they begin to take notice of differences around them. One notices far more when they are not required to focus on the crazy drivers closest to them and road signs. This could be why I noticed how many people seemed to be giving more attention to their cell phones than the fast-moving traffic around them. I also observed the people who insisted on pressing their foot on the gas pedal while having the aforementioned problem. I also had time to observe how uncomfortable sitting on my butt all day really is. Do you know what I mean?

I guess I should set some new month goals to welcome the month that is almost upon us. One of those goals would be to stop leaving butt prints on the couch. Another would be to keep hoping people will realize they don't have the power to text and drive. Who is with me??????

I began a short list of post-mid-year goals in my entry yesterday. I may wish to add the title of this entry to that list. I peeked out the window early and saw a black and white cat lounging on the back lawn. I proceeded to heckle him from the window. With all the horror movies I have seen, particularly Cat's Eye, you would think I know better than to tease cats, but I don't. In fact, I spent most of the weekend teasing a black and white cat who likes to hang out behind my in-law's house. I think the little fuzzball was starting to warm up to me but wasn't willing to commit to the ear scratching.

All this thought of resolutions led me to reread my new year's resolutions. That didn't make me feel like I was going to have any success accomplishing them. I did join a writer's group and make a few quilts and an awesome dress, but I also seem to have acquired more fabric in the process. I should probably have made curing my compulsive fabric buying one of my resolutions. Maybe I'll remember, but I probably won't.

I have noted a trend, probably overexagerated by commercials, for people tweeting and updating their statuses on every little thing they do. Would anyone really be interested to know how I spend every moment of my day? I don't think so. I am not that interested in most of it even though it is my life. I am becoming quite an expert on many television shows, collecting fabric, and producing food that makes me drool, but since I don't feel compelled to share my alterations to recipes I come across, people tend to get grumpy if I talk about them. Now I face the decision as to what to do to make this journal more entertaining to my readers. I could take up extreme sports or I could just keep teasing kitties...

"In the end, the number of prayers we say may contribute to our happiness, but the number of prayers we answer may be of even greater importance. Let us open our eyes and see the heavy hearts, notice the loneliness and despair; let us feel the silent prayers of others around us, and let us be an instrument in the hands of the Lord to answer those prayers." ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf