White Girls Can't Dance

Let me preface this by saying, I have always been fully aware of my lack of coordination (and thus my inability to participate in team sports and the reason I took up running in the first place - anyone can run. It's just really fast walking). I am not exactly what you would call graceful... in fact I am probably the only person I know who can go to sit on the couch only to end up bouncing off a cushion and skinning my knee on the sisal rug. But I digress.

Not only do I lack grace, but I have a penchant for breaking expensive things. You'd be a fool to leave your laptop plugged in anywhere that might cross my path, as there is a 100% chance that I will trip over the cord, knocking your laptop to the floor. Luckily my sexy new MacBook Pro comes with a safety feature made especially for people like me - the AC power source is magnetized to the inlet on the computer, but quickly and easily becomes detached if the cord is yanked. So... trip over your cord? No problem. Your MacBook Pro will be unphased. Just like the glass of wine in the Tempurpedic commercials. We may not be able to say the same of your bodily person, but... as long as the computer is safe, right? (I do not work for Apple, by the way. I just really like my MacBook)

Anyway, my MacBook is fairly new, maybe a month old... I had to purchase said MacBook as a replacement for my old PC laptop, which had the misfortune of belonging to me and as a result fell victim to my clumsy hands.

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Baby's First Blog

As I approach my late twenties (Ouch, seriously?), I find myself reflecting on the "good old days."

A bit of history: as a kid, probably until high school, I was PAINFULLY shy. I'm sure there were a number of people who thought I was mute, because I just I never said anything. Ever. (Good luck trying to get me to shut up now.) That didn't mean that my still maturing brain wasn't bouncing with thoughts. Deep thoughts. In fact, recently while at my parents' house on Christmas Eve I was able to unearth my old diaries spanning the years 1992-1999. Or ages 9-16. Reading through them, R (the boyfriend) and I were laughing so hard.... I'm talking gasping for air, pounding fists on the floor, tears streaming kind of hard. I knew right then and there that the world had to read this. And thus was born my Baby Blog. Or rather, as I like to think of it... my adult, online diary! YAY! So over the next several days, weeks, months (however long it takes) I will be publishing the highlights of my childhood diaries. Baring my soul for all to see, and to laugh at. The entries will be transcribed as-is, no changes to correct spelling or grammar, however names have been changed to protect the innocent.

These entries will be accompanied by my present day thoughts, comments, explanations in italics.

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