[DISCLAIMER] I am going to blog. So I say, anyway. Should I be embarrassed? Potentially, I guess, but I should certainly receive no more criticism for keeping a public chronicle of my thoughts than I should for, say, the number of hours I devote to reality tv viewing per week or cigarettes I smoke each day. I need to write something . . . anything, really, to assure myself that my brain is still somewhat functional. I'm not particularly sure about why I feel the need to justify my intentions. My inner vouyer loves to read other people's blogs, and I find some of them to be especially thoughtful or witty or well-written. The other 82% of them tend to be overly self-focused and boring, full of silly rants or luv messages to their bois and/or gurls, but lacking in substance and an understanding of basic grammar. I am really in no place to criticize anyone who is attempting to write as a form of self-expression, though, as I haven't been able to make myself sit down and come up with much of anything to say at all in recent months. So, I guess I will give it a shot. I make no promises of brilliance. I find my life, at the moment, to be rather sullen and dull, riddled with neuroses/idiosyncracies, but blessed with little moments of love, humor, and understanding. Here goes. [END SILLY, SMALLISH RANT]