It’s weird, every time I start thinking about something to write about on here, I get this really strong feeling of deja vu. I search through old posts to make sure I haven’t already talked about whatever it is, and sure enough there is nothing to be found. I think maybe its because I think about this stuff so much, when I am not writing about things I am thinking about writing about them. In case I am missing something and I post about something more than once, please ignore my scattered brain.

I was recently asked if my hands had ever affected my professional life in any way. That is a great question, and one that I wish I had a different answer for. In a perfect world I could say that my hands have never been a factor in my professional life, but unfortunately we do not live in a perfect world. I have been working on a post for a while about my first job, and I really need to finish it and post it, but until then I will tell you another story about a job interview I had a while back.

I worked in the IT department of a bank for 6 years, a few years ago I decide it was time to move in to something different and I quit my job. My job involved working on all of the computers we had in the building and in turn involved working with a lot of people. Just the fact that I work on computers and deal with issues than involve a lot of interaction with people on a daily basis much of which includes sitting down with them and working on their computer (which often involves a lot of typing) is a separate post all by itself. The last year or so I was at the bank I started working on ATM machines. I spent a lot of days sitting at an ATM machine replacing parts, or making software changes, and like everything else I do I found a way to do anything I needed to do. I had challenges, but I always managed to find a way to get things done. There was never any doubt that I could do my job and do it well. If there was ever a question whether or not I was capable of doing that job I feel fairly certain my boss would have sent someone else. For most of the last year I was there when ever there was a problem with an ATM machine he sent me, and I did the job.

When I quit my job I took a couple of months off and did some part time work for the company I am working for now. While I was off I sent out a few resumes and applied for a couple of jobs but nothing really worked out. I live in a rural part of Oklahoma and tech jobs aren’t exactly growing on trees. I was browsing the classifieds online one day and saw a job posting that was for a technician to replace hardware on point of sale systems and ATM machines. The pay was more than what I was making at my last job and I met all the job requirements so I sent a resume.  A couple of days later I got a call from a manager at that company and he had a few questions for me. We talked over the phone for probably 15 minutes and he said he would give me a call back in a day or two. The gentleman that called was the area manager and would have been my direct boss. A couple of days later I got another phone call from this gentleman and his manager from Oklahoma City. Both of these phone calls went really well and they told me they would call me back in a day or two as they still had a couple of people to talk to. A day later I got a call from another gentleman who was the manager of the two people I had previously talked to, he was from their corporate headquarters in Michigan. We talked for about 3o minutes and he advised me that I was the most qualified of the applicants that they had and that after some discussion between the three of them I was their first choice for the job. That same day I got another call from the first gentleman, he told me that he wanted to meet me later that week. He told me they had narrowed it down to me and one other person, but I was their first choice and the meeting was more formality than anything else.

Up to this point our phone conversations had been mostly about the job and my experience. We talked about some common interests and hobbies, but mostly about the job itself. I never mentioned my hands to them over the phone, I felt like it wasn’t really an issue as far as the job was concerned and so I decided to go to not mention it over the phone and instead go to this final interview and cross that bridge then. I drove to the next town over to meet with the gentleman I originally spoke with for the last interview. I was ready, and very well prepared.  All of the interviews I had done over the phone went really well, and I was pretty confident that I would be getting this job. That all came crashing down as soon as I walked in and introduced myself and shook the guys hand. I knew as soon as I shook his hand that I wasn’t getting that job, and I knew it was entirely because of my hands. We sat down and he looked and me and said “I really don’t know what else there is to say, we have pretty much covered everything over the phone”. That sentence was followed by complete silence on his part. That was one of the very few times in my life when I can honestly say someone was speechless. He did not have the slightest clue as to what he should say. It was one of those really awkward moments. I decided that I would take charge of the conversation and try to salvage any chance of me getting that job. I told him that I wanted the job, I was confident I would be able to do the job and that he would be missing out if he didn’t give me the job. After a few minutes he kind of loosened up a little bit and we were back on track. He told me that they had basically narrowed it down to me and another guy. He told me that of the two of us I was clearly the most qualified for the job. He told me that him and his managers had all come to the conclusion that they could think of a good enough reason to pick this other guy over myself. I told him I was happy to hear that and I felt like they should definitely give me the job. After about 20 minutes or so, he tells me that he has a few “concerns” about me, and he said he honestly didn’t know if I was physically able to do the job. I reminded him that not only was I very confident I was physically able to do the job,  I reminded him that I had been doing that exact job for the last year with no problems whatsoever. I knew I was fighting a losing battle and this guy already had his mind made up. I knew it from the second we shook hands, but I tried anyways because I refuse to go down without a fight. He thanked me for coming and said he would make his decision later that day and he would let me know, either way, by the next morning.

I left that interview feeling very overwhelmed. I was angry. My pride was bruised. I felt embarrassed. I knew I wasn’t getting the job. I accepted that, but I didn’t know how to deal with the reason for me not getting that job. I was so excited after the phone interviews, I told my family and some close friends about the new job prospect and they were all excited for me. They all knew I was going for this interview and as soon as I left I knew they would want to know how it went. I had to tell people I didn’t get this job, when I was almost certain that it was mine. I knew they would want to know why I didn’t get the job and although the reason was completely beyond my control and I had nothing to be embarrassed about, I was completely embarrasses. I didn’t tell anyone why I didn’t get the job. I don’t remember what I told people, but I didn’t tell them about how the in  person interview went. I knew people would be upset for me, and I knew they would be supportive but I still didn’t know how to deal with that. That was the first time in my life that something I wanted was taken away from me just because I was different. There was no other reason for me not getting the job other than a person thinking I was not capable of doing something because of my differences. As much as I tried to put on my game face and play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, the people closest to me say through me and knew what had happened. I had a friend that I had worked with at the bank come out and ask me if I didn’t get the job because of my hands. I hadn’t told him anything about the interview, but he knew by the tone of my voice what had happened. My mom, bless her heart, was more upset about it than I was. She was more angry for me than I was about the whole thing. As angry, and hurt, and embarrassed as I was, there really wasn’t anything I could but accept it and move on. I am and always have been a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I didn’t know what the reason was at the time, but I have a little better idea now.

I treat that situation like everything else in life. The people in life that accept me unconditionally are the ones I want to surround myself with. The people that don’t accept me unconditionally are not worth me wasting my time on. As much as I wanted that job, I would never work for a company that didn’t have complete faith in my ability to do anything I set my mind to. There was a minor lesson in that whole thing about peoples character, besides the bigger lesson. I knew I was not going to get the job, but I thought I would get a phone call the next day to tell me they had given it to the other guy. I did not get a phone call that next day. I didn’t not get a phone call the next week. After a little over a week I decided to give the guy a call just so he would have to tell me they had given the job to someone else. Someone that he admitted was not as qualified to do the job as I was. I was ok with not getting the job. I was ok with him telling me that he had concerns about me being able to do the job. I was ok with all of that, and had made peace with it, but I was not going to let him take the easy way out. I called and after a couple of days of “just missing him” he finally answered. I asked him what was going on and he said they had decided to give the job to the other person  and said he had been too busy to let me know. I thank him for the opportunity, and he said that he would keep me in mind if they had any other job openings. 

I felt so many emotions during that whole thing, and after I had some time to process it, I came to the conclusion that none of it really mattered in the long run. Sure my pride was hurt, sure I was embarrassed and had to tell people I didnt get the job because someone thought I was incapable of doing something. None of that really mattered though. The only thing that mattered was me knowing without any doubt that he was 100% wrong. A couple of moths after that I got a call from a person I knew at the time asking me if I wanted a job. I knew the people that I would be working for and knew it was a much better opportunity than the job I didn’t get so I accepted the job. It was one of those things where you have to have a rainy day every now and then to really appreciate the sunshine.

The best part about the whole thing came a couple of months after I had started my new job. I got a call one day from the company that did not hire me. It wasn’t from local manager that had doubted my abilities, it was from his manager. He didn’t really give me any details other than telling me that they had another job opening doing the same thing I applied for originally. He wanted to know of I would be interested. He was very sincere and apologized for me not getting the job the first time. I very politely declined and told him that I was where I was supposed to be. I thanked him for thinking of me and did my very best to say I told you so. I tried to tell the gentleman that he would be missing out if he didn’t hire me. Not because I am anything special,  but if for nothing else to prove to himself that a little faith in people goes a long ways.

I admit, when I started this blog I really didn’t expect much to come of it. I mainly wanted to start writing and thought starting a blog would be a good way to do some writing at my own pace, and also a good way to organize my thoughts. I decided to just jump in and start writing on here, and the book I eventually want to write would already have a start so to speak. I never really expected a lot of people to see this blog other than some friends and family that I told about it. I put this out there, not knowing what would come of it, and not really expecting much at all. I knew I wanted to tell my story and hoped that someone out there in this great big world might find it and get something positive out of it, but to be honest I just didn’t really know if that would ever happen.

In just a little over a month this blog will be a year old, and I still really don’t know what to expect, but I do have a little better idea now for sure. I haven’t made the progress that I have wanted, and there have been times when it has been hard to actually sit down and write about things. I am definitely more motivated sometimes, and less so at other times, and wish I had more time to dedicate to it. I guess if it were easy to do there wouldn’t be much point in doing it though, kind of like most things in life I guess. To my surprise, over the last couple of months the site has actually been getting a fair amount of traffic. In the last couple of weeks I have recieved a couple of emails that have really been just the motivation I have needed to keep doing what I am doing. I can’t tell you excited I have been to hear from people that have been reading and have written me just to say they are getting something good from the site, or to ask questions about how I handle things that they are going through. It is amazing, and very humbling, to think about other people being inspired or motivated by my life when I have always been the person looking for inspiration from others instead of within myself. I can not say thank you enough to those of you that have emailed me or commented on my posts here. I appreciate it more than I could possible put into words. I would also like to say if you are reading and following my blog, please take a minute to say hi, either by commenting or using the contact form, I can’t say enough how much I would to hear from each and every one of you. I hope you continue to follow along, I am just getting started here and I hope you continue this journey with me.

Last year around Halloween me and Josh went to a little hole-in-the-wall bar in Texas to listen to a friend of mine and his band. The band they were opening for was a pretty hardcore metal band, and it was the week before Halloween so there were all kinds that came out to this little shin-dig. The room the band was playing in was kind of separated from the bar, and I was taking a break by the bar to get away from all the smoke and the over active kids in the improvised mosh-pit they had going on. I hadn’t been sitting there long when some people from the local haunted house showed up. There were several of them all in makeup, but the one that was getting the most attention was a girl dressed up as a witch carrying around a crystal ball, and leading around an 8 foot tall monster (which was actually a 4 foot tall kid on stilts). The two of them were actually pretty creepy. They made there way through the room several times, stopping to harass people along the way. I watched her for a few minutes as she made her way over to the end of the bar where I was sitting. She kept rubbing her crystalball and telling people the horrible things she saw in their future. Several minutes later she makes it over to where I am sitting, and by this time people were not really paying any attention to her anymore. I don’t say anything to her as she walks up to me, so she just stands there and stares at me. I’m not saying anything, shes not saying anything, shes just standing next to me staring a whole through me. I kept waiting for her to rub her crystal ball and tell me my fate, but she never did. I thought maybe if I ignored her long enough she would go away, but no such luck. So after whet seemed like forever, I finally look her in the eye and ask, “do you read palms?”. She mumbles something about her ball and tells me that she can tell all sorts of things about me by reading my palms. Up to this point there had only really been eye to eye contact with her, so I held out both of my hands palms up and said, “what can you tell about me from these bad boys”. She paused for a second, and in her most serious witch voice she just says “you have terrible luck!”. She was good, because I cracked up laughing, and she never once broke character. Not so much as a hint of a smile from her. I thought it was pretty funny, the people sitting next to me…not so much. Oh well! I am sure she was laughing too on the inside.

Pretty much everyone I know has at some point said to me “hey you know what you should do with your leg”. That’s usually followed up with a crazy suggestion that will either be entertaining to them (and usually me), or will cause other people to be uncomfortable. I have been known to pull off my leg if I thought it would get a laugh or make a good picture. I posted a picture a while back of me and a friend posing with an alligator and said I was waiting on a friend to send me another picture like that. They sent me the picture a while back and I saw it today while I was looking through some pictures and thought I should finally share it. A few years ago I had a couple of coworkers that I went to lunch with pretty regularly. One day on our lunch break we decided to go out to the lot where our bank kept their repossessed vehicles to see what they had. On this particular day they had a backhoe and of course someone said, “hey you know what you should do with your leg”. That of course led to me pulling my leg off and laying on the ground with said leg under the bucket of said backhoe. I think it made for a pretty good picture. It makes me (and at least two other people I know)  laugh anyways.

I was talking to someone at work the other day and the subject of my prosthetic leg came up. This person was not aware that I had a prosthetic leg even though they have known me for a couple of years. I mentioned that a lot of people that I deal with everyday don’t know I have a prosthetic leg unless I wear shorts around them, or unless I tell them. Of course those aren’t the only ways a person could find out about my leg. I would say there are hundreds of ways that people have found out about it, most of which involve it falling off at the most inappropriate times. I have mentioned before a few of the stories I have about my leg becoming detached and thought this might be a good time to tell you a little more about some of those stories.

When I was in school and more physically active than I am now I wore a neoprene sleeve to help keep my leg on. I learned early on that when kicking a ball (or any other object for that matter) that maybe I needed a little something extra to keep me all in one piece so to speak. I remember a couple of kick ball games in middle school that did not turn out so well. For the most part I can keep my leg on, but there are times when it just gets away from me. When I knew I would need it, like for high school football games, I would wear the sleeve. As a general rule though I didn’t wear it unless I knew I would need it.

Had I known my cousin and his friends were going to be riding a bucking barrel in the backyard when I went over there I obviously would have packed the sleeve. I don’t really think I need to tell you how that turned out. Fifteen years later, that story still gets told every time I am around those guys, and its still funny.

Being short and having a prosthetic leg is like a double whammy. When I used to work for a bank I hated the chairs that the tellers sat in because they were taller than a regular office chair and my feet didn’t reach the floor. Had I know that I would be sitting in one of those high chairs doing a server update with my boss and another coworker, I would have packed the sleeve. You can only fight gravity for so long, it always wins in the end. I think the funniest part of my leg falling off that time was that neither of them noticed even though they were sitting right next to me. Neither of them found out until later on when someone else mentioned it.

One time I was glad I wasn’t wearing the sleeve was on a trip to Sea World in San Antonio when I was a teenager. The sleeve did a really good job of holding my leg on, but it was a pain to put on and take off. I put it on the the top of my prosthetic and then rolled it down, put my prosthetic on and then rolled the sleeve up over my knee. It was a process because of how the top of my leg is made so it wasn’t easy to just take the leg off when I was wearing it. Me and my cousin climbed like 50 set of stairs to get to the top of the big water slide at Sea World only to be greeted by a big sign that says “no prosthetic limbs allowed”. This is the part where I would normally throw a big old fit and tell the people at the top of the stairs what the could do with their sign. However, there are times when it is easier (and funnier) to just go along. So standing at the top of the water slide with my cousin and my grandpa and the teenagers working the ride and the long line of kids waiting on us, I pop my leg off hand it my pop and tell him he better beat me to the bottom. For anyone curious enough, he did not beat me to the bottom! On that same trip we found out how fast you could make small children get out of a swimming pool. The great thing about my leg is that it floats. This has been a good thing on a couple of occasions. Me and my cousin were in the pool with a bunch of other kids and for some reason we told them I had a fake leg. None of them believed us until I took it off under the water and just let it float to the surface (which it does not do slowly by the way). By the time the kids stopped screaming and the adults started to come around asking what was going on, I already had the leg back on and was acting like nothing had happened. Good times!

 I mentioned this story before, but promised I would tell the whole story later. So here you go. Gravity does tend to give me fits at times, so there are times when its just convenient to let the leg do what it wants to do. I was at a friends house one time working on my truck. I don’t even remember what was wrong with it at the time, but I had crawled under it to look at something. I was wearing shorts and my leg kept sliding off while I was moving around under there so I just kicked it off and went on with what I was doing. I got done, and still under the truck I start feeling around trying to find my leg so I can slide it back on and stand up when I get out from under the truck. One of the worst feelings in the world is reaching around for your leg and it not being where you left it. Trust me on that one. So I slide out from under the truck and sit up, look around and there is no leg to be found. That’s when I look over and see the neighbors dog, who obviously lacked someone to play with standing there wagging his tail looking at me with my prosthetic leg laying right at his feet. Two things immediately run through your mind in this situation. The first is, wow my leg is really far away from me. The second is, that mutt is going to take off with my leg as soon as I move. I was correct on both counts. In most of the cases where my leg has been separated from my person the worst part is trying to figure out how to get said leg back. In some cases people think its funny to not give the leg back (all of those people know exactly how unfunny I think that is now), in some cases there is no one else around and you just hop to it. Then there are the times when a dog just wants to play. My dad raised dogs when I was little and I learned that you can say anything you want to a dog as long as you say it in a friendly tone the dog will resond. If you want a dog to come to you, you better be nice about it, because the wrong tone of voice will not get your leg back. I dont remember exacty what I was saying to the dog (I am sure it wasnt anything good though), but I can tell you this, thats the sweetest I have ever talked to anyone or anything. Even though there was no one around, I am sure there were people on that street that day watching through their windows laughing their heads off.

The more I write about stuff like this, the more I remember things like this that happened. These are just a few of the times I can think of off the top of my head, and some of my favorites. I will be adding more stories like these as I remember/have time.

I have been thinking about a tattoo for a while now. I have a couple already and had been thinking about getting a new one. For me tattoos are kind of a personal thing even though they are on a persons body for the whole world to see. The tattoos that I have all have very personal meaning and thoughts behind them so it goes without saying that I put a lot of thought into these new tattoos. I hadn’t planned on getting them when I did, and even though it was kind of a spur of the moment kind of thing I had put a lot of thought into them.

I have always been a visual type of person. I have always liked tattoos on other people, and have always been intrigued by tattoos in general. I like the way they look, but more than that I have always been interested in the people that get them and the reasons behind them. There are endless reasons why someone would want a tattoo and all of them are probably different from the next. For every person in this world that has a tattoo or piercing or anything else body modification related there is another person that doesn’t understand why someone would do something like that to their body. I think more than just the visual and artistic aspect of tattoos I have really been interested in the reasons behind why someone would want to change their body in such a way. I am not even going to get into individuality versus conforming to the standards of whatever society you belong to. I personally feel like everyone has a little of both going on. People want to be different, but on the same hand people want to fit in. Either way, it takes a lot of courage to be an individual sometimes. When it comes to tattoos a lot of people see a tattoo and think that person is just trying to fit in. Different people have different motivations behind tattoos, and while I am sure there are people that just get tattoos to fit in believe it or not, not everyone that gets a tattoo is just trying to fit in. I have always admired the people that get tattoos despite what society thinks or says about them. It takes a lot of something (you can decide what you think it takes) for a person to step outside of the cookie cutter mold that we try to put people in. People that go to extremes like full body tattoos, or facial tattoos, or large gauged ears, or implants (not of the breast variety), or scarification or whatever else obviously put a lot of thought into their decision to change their body in such a way knowing that most of society is not going to be accepting of their choice. I personally think it takes a lot of courage to make the decision to be that different. On the other side of the fence from people that try to make themselves appear physically different from the rest of the world are people like me, people that were born looking very different physically than the majority of people. While I do think that a big majority of people (from my personal experience anyway) are accepting of both cases, there is always going to be people that don’t understand or accept people that or different, whether it be by choice or not. Unfortunately no amount of blogging or anything else is going to change they way those people view the world around them including the things and people that are different. I don’t understand people like that, and probably never will, but its not for me to understand. The only thing I can do is be me and let everyone else be whoever they are.

 There is a website that I frequent that deals with body modification. The site is not for everyone and is definitely not for the close minded. It is a community site dedicated to body modifications. One of the slogans that the website uses is “I never wanted to be different I just wanted to be me”. I have been a viewer of this site for several years, and while I don’t necessarily agree with everything or everyone on the site, from strictly a body acceptance point of view, I have always related to that slogan. I admire the people that willingly change their bodies and make the conscious decisions to be themselves and not worry about what everyone else thinks about them. No matter how negatively society may view them, they are proud of their bodies and accept each others differences without question. I can’t help but relate to people like that on some level, even though their choosing to be different and I didn’t have a choice.

 That slogan has kind of stuck with me every since I first visited the site a few years ago. I never wanted to be different, I just wanted to be me. Above everything else, forget fitting in or conforming, I just want to be me. I don’t want society to be able to dictate who I need to be. I want to be me, and if society isn’t cool with that its there problem not mine. People always like to point out that tattoos are permanent and that’s one of the things I love about them. They don’t change, they don’t waver. When you make the choice to put ink to skin, that’s how it’s going to be. I love the tattoos that I have because they are permanent reminders. They are always there to remind me of what I was thinking about or going through at the time I chose to get them. Not that I need to be reminded to be myself, but if I ever do doubt or question who I need to be, all I have to do is look down and it’s right there. I have wanted to get a tattoo related to that slogan for a while now, its something I have thought about for a couple of years. I wanted something to remind myself to just be me. I also wanted the tattoos in a visible place as a reminder to society that they don’t get to tell me what I can or can not do, or who I can or can not be. Whether it be because of some genetic anomaly, or my own choice to alter my body, I am different. I am unique. I am me. I chose to embrace my differences and not bow to what society says is normal. For some strange reason society, and particularly mainstream media, thinks they should be able to decide what people should act like or dress like or look like and I personally refuse to accept that. I just want to be me!

Most everyone I know has seen them, and the reactions have been pretty varied. I have had friends say they were the perfect tattoos for me, and then I have had people say they just don’t get them. The tattoos are kind of like me, you either get me, or you don’t. I think they are pretty simple, and pretty self explanatory. I think maybe people read too much into things sometimes. For the most part, everyone I know has been positive about my decision to get them, even if they don’t understand or approve. Whether or not people understand or accept me,  all I ever really wanted was to be me!

Against my better judgement, I am going to start hitting the publish button on a few of the post that I have been “revising” for some time. Since a few people have called me out on it lately. I know if I wait until I think things are perfect I will never let anyone see them, but its still not easy putting stuff out there that is really personal. Oh well, life is too short make sure things are perfect, so I am going to try to do less revising in the future and just put it all out there. Whats the worst that could happen?

So a few of you have mentioned that I have a couple of stories I need to finish. I know on a couple of occasions I have said I would tell you more about things when I had more time to get into them a little more. The truth is, I have already written most of the stuff and its just waiting on me to push that publish button. The only problem with that is I over think things and I tend to rewrite stuff to death before I put it out there for you to read. Especially when it comes to the more personal stuff I have written. I am going to take the next couple of days to go over them one more time and next week I will tie up some loose ends. Patience young grasshoppa!

I have had this feeling of Deja Vu for the last week or so. Phone calls text messages and emails from family and friends all telling how sorry they were, it all reminded me of a week about four and a half years ago. In November of 2004 I caught a catfish, not just any catfish either, it turned out to be the Oklahoma state record Blue Catfish on rod and reel. If you have been reading this blog I am sure you have read about the fish and its subsequent stay at the Oklahoma Aquarium. That week was crazy, I had so many people calling and texting and emailing me, wanting to ask about this fish. Local reporters wanting a story, a writer for ESPN Outdoors, people I had never met. All of them wanting to talk to me because of this fish. It was a little surreal. Now four and a half years later I have this strange feeling of Deja Vu!

Last week I got a phone call for the people at the Aquarium telling me that my catfish had passed away. I knew as soon as the lady on the phone introduced herself what she was about to say. I wasnt really prepared, and to be honest I was a little sad hearing that news. I mean, I knew that eventually it would happen, but I don’t think I had ever really thought about how I would feel when it did. I was suddenly reminded of that week four years ago, when people started calling and texting and emailing me to tell me they were sorry to hear about my fish passing away. Once again it was all a little surreal. The attention that one little (figuratively of course) fish could bring is still a little weird to me.

If we are speaking in terms of a book, I feel like my catfish passing away has ended a chapter that I was just getting interested in. There is so much more I could say about that chapter, but for the sake of this post not rambling incoherently, I will save the rest for a little later. I do want to add one last thing though. It is always nice to know that people are thinking of you, so thank you to everyone that called, or texted, or emailed me over the last week. Blue was my boy, and it’s not going to be the same without him!

One of my friends actually called me out the other day. She said she had been reading my blog, and had to point out that I wasn’t posting a lot of “book meat” as she called it. This is the friend that was one of the first people I told about my book idea, and I think one of the reasons I told her first is because I knew she would be one to encourage me, and not cut me any slack at the same time. I assured her that I have more book meat than it appears, that there’s a lot of material just chillin’ out waiting for me to hit the submit button on it. I tend to over think things a lot of times, and I will write about something and let it sit for a while before I a ctually decide to hit that submit button. This is especially true for some of the more personal stuff you may find on here. Not to mention the fact that a lot of this stuff that I am writing about happened more than a few years ago, so I am having to do a fair bit of remembering here. I am starting to wish I had made notes as I went along, instead of trying to remember all this stuff years later. I guess what they say about hindsight really is true.

I think the next big piece of this crazy puzzle that I will tell you about is my very first job. I think that could probably be a book all by itself. I have been working on that post for a while, and I hope to have it finished pretty soon. OH, I have also been working on a post about the many, many times I have lost my leg and the hilarity that ensued. I can tell you this, there is nothing more frustrating than a dog running off with your leg in its mouth!