Shallower than the kiddie pool
I don't get introspective here on my blog. Normally, cyberspace is where people bare their souls to complete strangers for attention and comments like "ur awsum srsly!" But I try not to. I am only interested in introspection as far as it's related to moving furniture around and trying to decipher things Paul says (like yesterday when he said, "Hey mom, you know that song 'Hometown California?'"* The dog knows I died laughing. What dog, you ask? Nevermind). Why don't I get deep on this blog? Because I'm not deep. I am 5 foot 4 inches; how deep can I be? I'll never be poetic--my poetic attempts are limited to odes to oatmeal and random rhyme schemes (I also favor alliteration, but not very often). I can't describe a scene of tear-jerking nostalgia or love in language chosen to rip your heart out with pangs of desire for bygone days and teddybears and childhood. (and I mix metaphors) I much prefer yammering on about band conc