I’m a reader-writer-funster-hipster-geeky-peacemaker-and-a-dreamer. I’m in my 30’s and okay with that. I’ll be okay with my 40’s and 50’s, too. I’ll probably need some therapy when I hit 60 or 70, though.
I like:
mermaids & dolphins, summer nights, chocotinis, cold winter mornings, Starbucks soy chais, staying in bed all day when it’s cold & rainy, sad movies, potty humor, all kinds of books, the smell of Barnes&Noble, big words, funny people, Diana Krall’s jazz, hip hop chicks, Corona Lites with lime, flavored water, Coke not Pepsi, tropical beaches with coconut trees and hammocks, sleeping cats, Skeeter’s bark, my niece’s laughter, holding babies, trying new foods, other cultures, open-minded people, progressive thinkers, Bill Maher not Anne Coulter, Arianna Huffington not Rush Limbaugh, Spiritualists not Religionists, Clive Owen’s eyes, Colin Firth’s accent, Adrien Brody’s hands, Laurence Fishburne’s aura, the Hog’s Breath Saloon & the chickens in Key West, snorkeling in the Bahamas, Tuscany & Madrid, red wine not white wine, Miami not LA, Chicago not NYC, Little Goose’s smile and laugh, Sunday morning sex, shopping malls, oceans and lakes, speedboating, crisp fall morning hikes, Christmas Eve, chocolate cake on my birthday, spa massages, sun on my face, new friends, the big painting on my living room wall, dreamers, photographers, writers, & other artistic people.
Feel free to send notes of love and concern to: buddhastic [AT] gmail [DOT] com. …If you’d like to send notes of hate and anger, send those to: dubyah [AT] thewhitehouse [DOT] gov. They handle all my negative publicity because they are expert spin doctors.
Wanna see a picture of the most freaking cutest kids on earth (and 1 diva-in-training)?
Gracie, my quirky niece who doesn’t want you to LOOK at her!!! Also, she would prefer that she be called “June,” because she hates the song Happy Birthday to You (unless she’s the singer). And she has an odd fascination with our solar system and the Starship Enterprise.
Guess who’s side of the family she takes after?
My nephew, Tanner. Yes, I KNOW he looks drugged! But that’s how month-old babies are supposed to look. I swear I didn’t let him have any of my wine that afternoon!
Sheesh.
