You Can Ask, but I Won't Tell (But I Want To!)

It never ceases to amaze me how the pirahna called "Life" is more than happy to jump out of its brackish river water and bite you square on the ass.

OK. It's not as bad as all that. In fact, the recent new developments around this Queen's household are a good thing. An expected thing, one might say. The chance to embark on another journey with a bag full of experience and the hope that this time things can be easier, a little more relaxed.

Sadly, it's possibly imprudent to be explicit about the changes at hand (and I made my husband promise not to share anything with anyone until I said it was OK to.)

But the problem right now is that I'm a big mouth. A horrible, terrible big mouth! I love to tell secrets. I have a merit badge in "Bean Spilling." I just can't keep anything to myself. In fact, I've been known to warn friends that if they wish to leave me with a secret they must ensure that I do not tell anyone the news for 24 hours straight. Once they 24th hour mark has past, I will take that secret to the grave (and that's only because I've forgotten the secret.)

I can't forget this one, though! So... I will not deny anything guessed and in a few weeks, I'll spill the beans publicly (regardless of the outcome.) I can't imagine anyone reading this blog hasn't figured out where I was going with this, but if you guess, then I can safely say I never said a word.

Just Don't Call Chuck Norris "Sugar"

I know this is a cop out post and some day I'll get back to posting. I've been going through my annual Diabetes-Sucks-and-People-Who-Can-Eat-Ice-Cream-Without-the-Sugar-Coma-Can-Bite-Me funk. This list just about made me pee my pants! Funk over. (Thanks, Six Until Me!)