They aren't golden, but they are MINE.

Everything I’ve been writing lately leans heavily to the dark, serious and twisty side of me. While clearly, that's how I’m feeling - I don’t wanna feel that way, so I stole this idea from lil-sister ‘Roo, who never fails to make me laugh, in print, on the phone, and especially in person.
Thanks ‘Roo, I owe you one.

Rules of Cravey.. also in no particular order.

I’m going to have to start with one of Roo’s because I couldn’t agree more.

If you are a stranger to me, there is NO TOUCHING THE CRAVEY.
Do not put your arm around me, try to hug me, touch my face, or any other part of me. THIS is simply not okay. I honestly believe that when friends of mine got pregnant and told me that strangers were constantly touching their pregnant stomach - STRANGERS, like, people on public buses were TOUCHING them. It sealed the deal on pregnancy for me. I feel confident that if you laid your hands on my pregnant stomach you would draw back a bloody stump. This is probably not the best temperament for a mother-to-be.

If you are mean to an animal or a small child in front of me, I will get in your face and I will embarrass you and I do NOT care what your story is. I have recently stood in the entrance of a Wal-Mart waiting for the police with a man and a sobbing child with a hand-shaped welt on his face screaming “you are not my father!” That man easily outweighed me by 100 pounds and had 6 inches on me. He did not get past me and he definitely wanted to. It’s my belief that people that hit children or animals are cowards at heart and confronted with anything that looks like real courage they crumble like dry dog excrement in the sun. I’ll accept that this may backfire on me one day. It will still be worth it.

If you say “Irregardless” to me I will instantly dislike you. It’s not a real word (in dictionary talk they call it “nonstandard”) and it’s stupid. So stop saying that.

I can’t wear white shoes. They just look wrong to me. Also, Capri pants. Many many, many people look great in these, and make them look cool. I have tried on about 457 pairs of capri pants, every time thinking they will be fine. I put them on, and all I can think is “my pants are too short”. Not a single pair has ever made it out of the dressing room.

I think if there were more men like Dr. Phil, there would be more lesbians.
This has little to do with anything – it just needed to be said.

I am generally a happy person. I am more content with my life in the last 3 years than ever before. However, this does not mean I walk around with a toothpaste commercial-style smile on my face. Nothing is wrong. This is just my face.

I think because I was so sports-oriented as a child/young adult I have trouble when I feel like people aren’t being fair. I know that life isn’t fair. I expect the people in my life to do their level best to be fair in their dealings with me. I give what I get. No referee required.

That’s all for tonight, and really.. isn’t that quite enough?


Since this sorta turned into a Meme.. I’m going to tag.. So, No Celery Please. Hit the ‘sphere up with some rules, and the celery rule is a given; no need to repeat.
Also, I need to hear from the Princess – because I *know* she’s got some good ones. And anyone else that wants to pile on, feel free.