This morning it was a 6:30 wake-up. I hate waking up cheerful. I hate being perky during the day. I hate being productive.

I hereby decide to stay up as late as it takes to make sure I feel foul tomorrow. The blog-god has spoken.

Today it was a lazy, under-the-cover stretch in bed, as I was trying to wake up. Feet flexing, back arching, arms going over my head - Slowly becoming aware of each muscle, feeling my way slowly into the day.

Breathing deeply. Torso twisting. Twisting. Twisting.

*BAM* 

Twice - in my life - I've hurt my back.

Both times were random. Once, as I was sneezing. I politely turned my head to the side and *CRACK*. Flat on my ass for a few days.

That was kinda funny. What kind of girl sneezes so hard she throws out her back? I finally started lying when people asked how it happened. ANY answer was better than the truth. Lying worked well... for about 5 minutes. Truth is a hard thing to smother when you have siblings.

Today, it isn't even funny. Technically, I think I hurt my back / shoulder. But pain keeps tearing down my arm, and my left fingers feel tingly. Every few minutes the pain slaps its tentacles up over my scalp, and I'm 93.7% sure that there is an actual hunting knife lodged in my left breast.

Should I be typing? Probably not. But at this point it will hurt more to put down my lap top than it will to keep typing.

Since I am bound to my keboard, I've got nothing better to do than blog. Expect LOTS of material. Or maybe I'll suck it up, and get horizontal as fast as I can. In which case you will all be spared the long, dull ramblings that inevitably come from being immobile.

Nuggets of sympathy left in the comment section will be rewarded with looks of approbation from me.

and implore the aid of those who are more technologically savvy than I am.

I don't know how to put my blog favorites in any order other than the order in which they were added.  Indigo chick makes me very jealous because hers are in alphabetical order. This alphabeticization seems, to me, magical. 

Help?

I'm eating it fast, because the longer I wait the nastier it gets.

Jnuts recently posted about a kitten who was beat to death with a shovel. (To say, he felt "passionately" about animal abuse and those who commit it might e something of an understatement...)

Someone named Jeff commented with an idea that was stoic, practical, and completely void of humane sympathy.  Riled, Jnuts basically said "if that's the way you feel don't come back here."

Because I believe the blogosphere is an open forum for discussion, at first, I was a little put off that JNuts would send some guy packing simply because they disagreed. How *dare* he?

And then, someone commented on my "fairytale" entry, (to read the actual words, it's the March 15th comment string) basically saying, "wake up. life isn't perfect. compromise."

I think I felt the same way that JNuts did, when he was challenged on something that was so close to his heart!

You have to make a decision, as a blogger: to either lay bare and honest before your readership, come what may, or to blog in vanilla.

I never want to make the mistake of getting thin skinned just because someone comments on my soul. After all, if it's so freaking precious that it can't be scrutenized, why put it on the internet in the first placed?

JP (whose blog I have read, by the way, picture albums and all) said that he "stood chastised." Chastisement, YAY! I mean, wait -

- why should he? He laid bare his ideas. Can I not be as respectful and understanding of his thoughts as I expect him to be of mine?

I will be. Because the blog god is omnipotent... but also a little curious.  

Besides, chastized is such a harsh word... I prefer the term... "spanked".

My boy is an avid poker player. He can play Texas Hold 'em like no one's business.

I'm just glad that the game he loves has "Texas" in the name, since he's a dirty yankee.

In twenty years, when his gambling habit has turned us out onto the street, and we're forced to move in with his parents, I hope that thought will comfort me.

Good luck tonight, dear. Rob 'em clean. 

L - is for how much I hate lunges

O - is for how much I hate hamstring curls

V - is for how much I hate ball squats

E - is for how much I hate hip adductions

Does it rhyme? No. But can I walk? No.

So my thinking is, if I can't walk, why should it rhyme?

Youch. Mommy. Can't. Argh.

Yeah, it's not a very good acronym. But my sister, the work-out goddess, just walked me through a work out that made my legs all numb and noodly. Now, as I feel the numbness being replaced by pain, I realize that working out just isn't for everyone.

We hates working out, doesn't we, precious? We hates cruel, nasty lunges, and the squats created in "ball" country. They isn't kind to us, precious, and we hates them.

Don't take it personally, but I do.

And, I hate you, and you, and you.

I hate kittens, bunnies, apple pie, and pretty little birds.

I hate everyone. And my ever-present love won't be back until this crashing headache goes away.