Today’s blog is just a smattering of random thoughts and ideas running through my head, like the movie, “Being John Malkovich“. There’s a carnival going on, so crawl inside, snuggle up, and you can scan this Mars and Venus world through my baby-brown eyes.

After more than 20 blog posts now, my musings and rants have meandered in a host of different directions. You’ve probably figured out by now that my mind is a bit fragmented…perhaps a lot like yours? I obsess on things like exercise/running marathons/triathlons …gender equality …sex …playing and writing music … focus … creativity … passion.

These are all things that are salient to me in my life, and I hope some of my words speak to you on occasion. My neuroses and interests may gleefully intersect with some of yours and there are others where you probably say to yourself, “WTF“!? I love the way that words fit together and form images in our heads…how a change of adjective remodels the mind’s vision in a thoroughly different way.

Oddly, I chose science for my vocation (I’m a medical lab tech), yet I thrive and flourish on the artistic side of the fence. This isn’t wholly unique…

  • John Grisham is a lawyer
  • Mary Higgins Clark was a Stewardess (sorry, flight attendant)
  • John Steinbeck ran a fish hatchery.

Writing a blog is like walking across Niagara Falls on a tightrope…it’s kind of a crazy idea to begin with, but when you finally step on terra firma on the other side, there’s a feeling of exhilaration. If you’ve ever felt a strong yearning, or even a twinge of yearn to write your own blog, I would encourage you to do it. Setting up a blog is free and pretty darn easy (this blog is set up through WordPress and costs me NADA!). The work AND fun in blogging is in the formulation of ideas and writing, not the technical aspects. There is nothing special about me or others who blog that you can’t do.

Every time I post a blog, I pee my pants a little! There are seeds of doubt when I put my inner self out for inspection. I’m Sally Field standing alone in a pretty Versace designer dress in front of you at the Oscars…only I’m saying, “Will you like me, will you really like me?


…or… maybe you don’t !

I don’t really want you to know how insecure I am sometimes, in life in general, and in this blog in particular. When I look in the mirror, I should really see Woody Allen’s neurotic face, not mine. Should I reveal how I obsess when I “publish” and then spend the next day or two watching the “hits” on the blog site? “Oh, that one must have struck a chord”…or “I’ll bet everyone thinks I’m a real pervert when I write this stuff”.

I want people to read my blogs and say, Wow, how did he come up with that insight?” Occasionally, I’ll even immodestly sit back myself and say, where the heck did that great idea come from?

You know, I’m reading a book right now called Bird by Bird. It’s a publication about the writing process itself, and in just about every paragraph I read, I’m struck by the amazing insights and anecdotes and metaphors that the author Anne Lamott uses to make her points. It is SO concentrated with ideas and images, which I think is what good writing is about.

My brain works in slow motion. Some people (whom I REALLY hate!) I know can think and process and verbalize ideas on a second’s notice. NOT ME! The molasses that is thick and viscous in my head, rushes for these speed-thinkers, headlong like whitewater through a narrow creek. I admire their minds, and YET I still wish they’d all drown in a whirlpool!

I could never participate in a panel discussion (I’ve been asked before and I always found excuses not to) because I’d have to sit for 15 minutes before I found a response that makes any sense. Otherwise I’d spew nonsense. I think and cogitate and roll the thoughts around in my head. I write them down, and then re-think them some more until I form something that resembles an opinion.

The inside of my head sounds like a bowling alley…if you place your ear right up against my head, you can hear the bowling balls rumbling down the alleys, trying to find a sensible path. But really my depth of understanding of life’s quandaries and philosophies is limited and child-like. All of those rumbling bowling balls knock down only 5 or 6 pins of awareness, leaving the further few undisturbed because I can’t even see them.

I truly believe that the sub-conscious is one of the most powerful tools we all possess. It can put the latest Big Blue computer to shame when its strength reveals itself. I trust my sub-conscious to work for me and make stuff happen that I didn’t think was possible.


When I was a little kid, I thought ALL adults were like Gods or something. They knew everything, they never questioned what was right or wrong, because they just knew. They had no crises of confidence in themselves, because they were infallible.

One of the biggest disappointments or at the very least, insights– if we want to be positive about it all– is that, ADULTS are kids in grown-up clothes. There is a 7 or 8 year old beneath our surface that is vulnerable and protected by the armour we construct. Much of what is thrown at us we can deflect and move on strongly through our daily lives. Other flotsam pierces through and wounds us and keeps us awake at night wondering why and how.

Adults don’t know everything…not even close. We often walk the edge of confidence crises, teetering, adjusting, wondering if we somehow measure up in life. We make mistakes, both accidental and on purpose that we should have learned not to make when we were Grade 5 students in Mrs. Taylor’s classroom.

You might be an adult, but you don’t know it all!

Mark Twain said,

What a good thing Adam had. When he said a good thing he knew nobody had said it before.”

Twain had it right (or is that write?). There’s nothing original about my reflections … except the manner in which I say things. This is my voice. I have a voice that sets me apart from you and every other person– writer or not– and vice versa. I vacuum up the ideas and things I see around me and spit them back out at you in my own words. I read other writers and admire and absorb sponge-like the great things I see in their turn of phrase. Then I vomit it out again.

And I love doing it.

And I love that some of you seem to agree that I have something worthwhile to say. The comments I get from you are full of your own personal insights and wisdom and truth. I TRY to speak the truth seen through my beclouded glasses…sometimes it’s a shot glass, sometimes a wine glass, and occasionally it takes a WHOLE beer stein!