The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 4,600 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 8 years to get that many views.
Let’s face it we are our own worst enemy! I know there are many of us with this affliction. We try to hide it, keep it under lock and key but the strange thing is others can often recognize it before we can see it in ourselves. It robs us of simple pleasures, prevents us from participating in life and hinders us from stepping outside of our box.
We play these mental games with ourselves, then either pander ourselves out of doing things or admonishing ourselves for our failings. Sickos – all of us! Shame, shame, shame!
What is it? Anxiety Disorders. OK, you may not be fully diagnosed with it but we all have various stages of this budding affliction.
I am notoriously one who is daring, willing to try things. Bungee jumping, parasailing, snorkeling, spelunking – ok won’t be doing that one again any time soon, and even rapellng are not things for the faint of heart. Instead of giving into peer pressure, I was the kid your parents warned you about. Yes, I did daring stupid things. Yes, I jumped off a roof. Yes, I took a dare more often than I gave them. but as I’ve gotten older and become responsible for the lives of others (parenting changes you – it really does), I’ve detected a line of thinking that is akin to an anxiety disorder.
My 17 year old daughter is getting ready to begin her senior year in high school – yeah! Go Sarah! However today she is nearly in a panic, because of the unknown.
She stated it like this: “When you’re going to do something that you’re nervous about it, it’s best to just do it and not think about it. Sort of like getting on a roller coaster, you don’t think about the physics of the design of the roller coater, or the g-force, or how dangerous it is. You just look at it and think – ooh, fun!”
Yeah, if we all could remember that! However, when we face a new challenge our brains go into high gear and we over anazlye the situation, adding the terifying what ifs. Choosing a new hairstyle, starting a new phase like starting college, starting a new job, making a career change, gonig to a different gym, taking a different route to work, they can all be intimidating. Personally, I don’t think it’s a matter of anxiety disorder but fear. It’s scary to step out sometimes but as you talk yourself out of it, you convince yourself it’s scary and not worth trying, therefore next time it’s easier to stay in your box. Before you know it, the box has shrunk and your stuff has an inch of dust on it.
Yep, you know it, I’m a box smasher! I come in like a tornado and rearrange the furniture, move your stuff, shift things “6 inches to the right”; sometimes tearing out an entire wall to expand a wing. For those who think I never get scared – get real! I just do it afraid.
Fake it till you make it, or never let them see you sweat. Either one works. I know a person however, that over the years has let themseves be overwhelmed by the smallest of things, allowing their box to close in so that it’s such a cramped little affair there’s barely room to turn around. It’s sad, really.
Now there are individuals who really do have anxiety disorders. I have some of the symptoms that I will list below, but I don’t let it dominate my mind. I ain’t dead yet, and I’ve got a lot more life to live. In fact, I intend to live mine out loud! If you’re not so bold and brazen maybe you could start with baby steps. Wear a different color; it can be a huge shock to the system. Smile at someone you don’t know – I know, shocking. Try a new food – I don’t know, that could be risky. Read this blog – omg – we may be moving a little too fast. One step at a time!
My point is that as we get older we are more prone to settle into routines. Routines then become ruts and before long the rut is a grave with the ends knocked out. We allow worries and fears to dominate our thinking and before long we accept failure because we are afraid to try. I don’t want to be that person. It’s humorous to watchMr. Monk, but in reality it would be a sad existence. I know from personal aquaintance, the above mentioned person’s box is beginning to resemble a coffin.
So here’s what WEbMD has to say about it:
What Are the Symptoms of an Anxiety Disorder?
Symptoms vary depending on the type of anxiety disorder, but general symptoms include:
I’m sure we can all recognize some of those symptoms but it doens’t mean we need to run out and get a prescription for Xanax. I rebel against the pharmaceutical companies need to overmedicate the world population when all we need to do is put on our big girl/ big boy pants and live life – to the fullest measure experiencing everything it can throw our way! Just dodge the tomatoes.
Yeah, and some call me an adrenaline junkie as well! It doesn’t matter though, I’m having a blast.
Write on my friends, write on!
Winding down the end of the year is always a busy time. Winding down is actually a misnomer, as I’m usually gearing up for my plans for the new year. Evaluating what went right, what went wrong, what goals I’ve met or exceeded and what goals I’ve completely failed at usually are forefront on my mind as I set my plans for the new year.
How do you gauge yourself? Do you spend time evaluating how you did in meeting goals you’ve set for yourself? If you’ve failed every goal then you either didn’t apply yourself or you set ridiculous unattainable goals. On the flip side of that, If you’ve met every goal that you’ve set for yourself you’ve set your sights too low.
I’ve missed some of my goals. I break down into ten areas the goals I set for myself.
What about you? Do you set goals for yourself? Try to set your bar just a little harder so that you have to push yourself. We are capable of more than we realize. This is the whole reason why a personal trainer can get you to do more than you can yourself, because they push you. They encourage you. They see the long-term effect where as we get hung up on the momentary discomfort. Hey those first few weeks in the gym were killers!
Spend some time brainstorming what you want to accomplish this next year, and then select one or more goals in each category that best reflect what you want to do. You may also want to consider just a single goal in each category if it seems overwhelming. For me, I like having a long checklist of things I have achieved, so I make several goals. For each year I make the number of goals equal to the number of years of my age. You may want to consider trimming yours down so that you have a small number of really significant goals that you can focus on.
As you do this, make sure that the goals that you have set are ones that you genuinely want to achieve, not ones that your parents, family, or employers might want. (If you have a partner, you probably want to consider what he or she wants – however, make sure that you also remain true to yourself!)
Here’s the thing, if we don’t set ourselves goals we achieve nothing. We just go with the flow, day-to-day and end the year the same as we did last year, or the year before, or the year before that.
Failure to plan is planning to fail. I don’t like to fail. I’ve found that if I don’t set myself goals to achieve, I drift aimlessly and achieve nothing. I’m of the belief that we get one shot. This is not a dress rehearsal, it’s the main event. I want to be the best me I can be while I’m here and contribute to the world around me in a positive way.
What about you? Got plans? Got an areas that you’re not satisfied with? If you’re content, could you give your time or energy to less fortunate people? There’s always something more that we can do, but it’s a personal plan for each and every one of us.
Write on my friends, write on.
I do not own the rights to this image.
It is so not fair! Parenthood is a serious downer at the moment. On the practical side, money has been spent, time invested, and much preparation has been put into my “End of life as we know it” party. (I know, I plan to be here on the 22nd – it’s a big joke, but hey! It’s a reason to have a party.)
When I plan something I don’t just send out a few invites and buy a bag of chips. NO, I had a serious throw down planned. I made a play list for Latin music; Latin Christmas tunes, tribal music even. I had fake feather neckwear and Mayan masks for my guests. I had ankle feather cuffs for everyone to wear, and skimpy little wraps to wear over our swimwear. Yes there are sun lamps to get an indoor tan as the Mayans lived in the tropics. Plus, it was an excuse to get a winter tan!
There are props: large paper mache’ palm trees decorated with twinkling lights on either side of the sofa, a cardboard Mayan temple painted to look like ancient ruins that surround the “yule log” burning on the tele. Tropical plants are on stands in the kitchen – well those were there anyway but they work!
The chocolate fountain, a Marguerita fountain, salsa and chips , guacamole; (ok I hadn’t made that yet but the stuff was bought) and a huge fruit tray with fresh pineapple! Literally, the party to go out with a bang in the end.
I searched the web for the perfect little effigy dolls for my guests. (See felt doll pattern above) After all, a sacrifice to the great jaguar god might just avert disaster.
All in vain as I had to cancel. Parenting makes for hard decisions at times, even taking away our fun. I was not going to allow my teenage daughter to be rewarded for her mouthy, belligerent behaviour towards me. Her friends were coming as well. In all honesty only four of my friends said they could make it, and the majority were her friends. (Right, forget the Marguerita.) She’s right, at 18 she is considered an adult but fails to behave as an adult or be responsible as an adult. The fight began as usual in her failure to do her chores. A simple thing empty the dishwasher. No, it had to be a fight. Dinner was delayed for the family due to her failure to empty the dishwasher, and she’d left my kitchen counters covered with her mess from baking the night before.
In the past I’ve cleaned up behind her and guess what? She never cleans up, just leaves it for me. Not this time. I did my best to ignore the mess for several hours. I did not jump in as usual and do it for her. We waited, dinner was already an hour late when she finally, under protest stomped in to do a five-minute job. Oh the melodrama!
Then the mouth started. It went from how ridiculous I am to demand that she does a few measly chores in a timely manner, to her getting right up in my face mocking me. Yeah, I just about lost it. The little princess nearly got a beat down. Nearly. I walked away to the bathroom to calm down before I did anything rash. That wasn’t enough, she decided to get uglier. I love my children and would do anything for them, including make the hard choices to teach them to become responsible adults not spoiled brat little divas.
Suck it up buttercup – the party is off! At this moment she is probably praying that it truly is the end of the world, as life as she’s known has just ended. I guess fate has decided it really is the end. The end of smart mouth back talk and disrespect to me her parent, the end to the easy life she’s known, and the end to me following behind her, cleaning up her messes. The fecal matter has hit the rotary blades!
Trust me, it would be so much easier to just give in and go ahead with my plans but that would teach her nothing but the idea that she can throw a hissy fit and treat me like crap! NOT going to happen! This is why many of my friends are taking Xanax, or pouring Jack in their Coke.
*SIGH* So while I figure out what to do with my props and party stuff, I want to refer you to a fellow writer’s blog on this whole Mayan end of the world thing. CJWest has a great sense of humor and a talent for suspense. Check out The Twelve Days of the Mayan Apocalypse. Make sure you follow the links, starting with the first post.
C.J. West is the author of seven suspense novels including The End of Marking Time and Sin and Vengeance, which was optioned into development for film by Beantown Productions, LLC (screenplay by Marla Cukor). C.J. blogs at http://www.cjwestkills.wordpress.com. You can also find him at http://www.22wb.com or at http://www.facebook.com/cjwestfans
I think he’ll have you laughing in no time while I deal with parent issues.
Life isn’t always about doing what we want, but doing what we should. This is the difference between maturity and age. Age is just a numeric designator.
Write on my friends, write on!
There are very few things that really set me off. I know you’re thinking, really? You’ve vented on here more than a few times. Those were minor.
This here, this is the big enchilada. This is the fastest way to get me from easy-going fun princess to pissed off uber psycho bitch! (CAUTION: nuclear explosion eminent)
What? What can be so bad? Insulting my intelligence! Now, I am well aware that I am not Einstein or Steven Hawking. I ‘m also not the dullest light on the strand. Give me a break, ok? It’s the holidays. . . lights? strands? Never mind.
So here’s what happened. . . and please feel free to leave your comments. If you think I”m just being petty, you have every right to say so. Just as aI have every right to debate your statement. Yesterday I get a phone call from my previous boss. He wanted to know what course I took that I passed my NMLS license with a 92% on the first try. (Trust me, there’s more to it, just keep reading.) That was three years ago first of all, but I still had the notebook with my hundreds of notes. I’m thinking to myself, that would be outdated material now as there have been new laws passed since all this economic collapse. He wanted to find out what course I took that I did so well, because another lady in the office took a different online course and didn’t pass. She was a real go getter salesperson, and I was not. Honestly, I am not pushy enough to be a top sales producer, nor do I believe in selling someone a mortgage they can’t afford. He wanted to know which course was the easy one so his daughter could take the easy one to pass.
WHAT? Yeah, did you catch that? Right, it was all about the course. I took the easy course. It had nothing to do with the fact that I obsessed over, (I know, for those that know me – hard to believe, right?) spent every waking hour studying for, took a gazillion notes, went to the YMCA to get a wi-fi connection to take the course every night for two weeks, had nothing to do with the ginormous (it is a word if I say it is!) amount of studying I did. NO, it was all the easy course. OW! Bitchslap!
Then, as if that wasn’t enough the vp calls. The Mrs. to the pair, calls and uses her friend voice. Asking nearly the same exact questions and made the statement that “well because we want “insert daughter’s name here” to pass it we thought that she should take that easy course that you took to pass it. Nobody passes it on their first try, but you did, so that must be the easy course! SLAM! Are you listening?
In order to get a mortgage loan officer license you have to pass the test with a 75%. I got a 92%. It’s at a test facility, the same place that nurses have to take their board exams. You lock everything in a locker, they frisk you before entering the testing chamber, you are issued their calculator, a white board and a marker. If you have to go to the bathroom you have to raise your hand to have someone escort you to the bathroom to make sure you’re not cheating. My point is, what it came down to was me in the seat answering questions about the material I had learned, fifty percent about the laws that govern the financial industry. No one was helping me, no one was feeding me answers. There are people behind the glass wall that watch your every move, even if you need a kleenex to blow your nose. I took the test and I aced it! It helps that I have a photographic memory, but no one learned the material for me but me. I don’t get test anxiety, I get pretest anxiety though. It’s called obsess and stress for the two weeks prior causing myself health issues.
But no, I took the “easy course”. *facepalm* Watch Ellie go from zero to ballistic in five seconds flat! Fine, I gave them the information and guess what? That course is no longer available as the material is outdated. Duh! The course I took this year to renew my license was all new material. So, in fact the time they took to call me to find out the easy course for their daughter was wasted time, and the deadline is December 29th. Hmmmm, not the brightest use of time now is it? Did I mention that the bosses got a lower score than I did on that test? Yeah, that comment really sounded like sour grapes to me. I don’t care, I’m really pissed! In fact the Mrs. score was a 78% and his was 82%. Hmmm, I think a bit of sour grapes all around.
Following their logic, because I wasn’t a pushy broad that would oversell a mortgage to someone to become an indentured servant to the mortgage company for the next 30 years, or encourage them to purchase 20% more home than they needed that makes me stupid. I don’t think so! That means I have a moral conscience!
Oh and did you catch the part about the former bosses? Yeah, I am an account executive for a different mortgage company, one that looks out for their customers and provides information to potential clients on the web.
And being a writer is not as demanding a job, therefore requiring less intelligence than being a mortgage broker. ( Yes, all my writer friends just got it! An enormous percussion bomb is about to detonate.) If that doesn’t express their idiocy I don’t know what does!
Just for the record, I’ve had my IQ tested when I worked for the federal government. It’s a respectable score.
So, does their opinion really matter? Not at all. Once I calmed down over the initial emotional shock, and ok vented here about it, the bottom line is it doesn’t change what I do or how I do it. It doesn’t change one thing about me, unless I allow it to steal more of my time and prevent me from moving forward. Does it matter if you think I’m stupid? Not really, not anymore than their opinion matters.
Even though it got me temporarily fired up, the bottom line is it doesn’t matter. I know my abilities. I know that I am not meant to be a sales person in the mortgage industry. I couldn’t live with myself with selling some of the people a lifelong bondage that I know they can’t afford. Since I can’t separate that from business, that’s not the job for me. I’m ok with that. In fact I still appreciate the time I was employed for those people as it opened the door to the job I have now. You should appreciate them also because my present job allows me to work from home where I can blog! LUCKY YOU!!!!!
LIfe is what we make it. You don’t always get to pilot the ship but when you do, make sure you know what direction you want to go. I’m not looking back, I’m heading to the bright future ahead. Second star to the right, straight on ’till morning.
Write On My Friends, Write ON!
Sharing a bit of flash that was posted on Storytime Trysts at the first of the month. You may have noticed that I’ve been MIA; in all honesty I’ve been swamped with work from two jobs, trying to coordinate Christmas things, and final edits on Kiss of the Dragon. I haven’t fallen off the earth, I am still planning the big end of the world bash, and the post llamacolypse resurrection for the 22nd. Trust me – the Mayan throw down will rock! And the post party will also. Anyone got any nifty Mayan tunage?
The chocolate fountain is procured, the tequila is purchased; the chips are in the pantry and the taco bar is planned. Sewing Mayan costumes for the sacrificail dancing before effigy burning; and trying to find some sort of maks – may end up with headdresses.
So, while I busy myself with pre party planning, finish with my Christmas cards, and print off the bills for the lucky individuals to receive here’s my flash contribution.
Putting the car in park I called my best friend Stacey. “Well, I’m here. I don’t see his car, but this is the place he told me. I’m so excited. Do you really think he’s going to do it?”
“Yes! It’s so romantic! I’ve heard it’s the best restaurant in town. Can you take a picture of it in the bathroom and send me at least?”
I turned the ignition off and checked my makeup. “OK.” We squealed together before I ended the call. Dmitri and I had dated for a year, tonight marking our one year anniversary. It was turning out just like one of our conversations when he’d asked me about things I thought were romantic. The holiday lights twinkled, the snow lightly falling, and the crisp chill in the air contributed to the romance. He couldn’t have made it more perfect if he’d had a movie set. We had talked about a romantic dinner, then a sleigh ride together in the lightly falling snow as he proposed. I glanced down the street and sure enough a white horse with an elegantly decorated sleigh with a man in top hat and long tails.
I blinked several times to keep from crying. It was absolutely perfect. I had fallen madly in love with Dmitri after four months. He was charming, kind, and had a great sense of humor. I took a long slow breath as I walked carefully to the door in the new fallen snow. Blowing out a steady stream of air, as I entered, I glanced around but didn’t see him. Tonight he would make it official.
The maître de escorted me to a corner booth that had a single red rose in a vase. I had arrived before Dmitri. I sat nervously scanning the crowd. The waiter brought my wine while I waited. Ten minutes later he arrived with another woman’s hand in his.
“Sonya, I’d like you to meet my fiancée’ Claire.” I stood and nervously extended my hand. His fiancée’? He scooted into the booth, staying close to Claire, their fingers laced together. I couldn’t help but stare. Was this his idea of a joke? Claire was a lovely girl. Physically the opposite of me in every respect; blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and a rail thin body. I couldn’t help but evaluate against my own dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and curvy figure.
Dmitri bragged to me that he had taken my idea of a perfect romantic evening to propose – to Claire. They had just returned from their carriage ride and he wanted her to meet his work associate that he’d gotten the idea from.
I wondered if she knew that the conversation came after a passionate night of lovemaking. Could you even call it that? Apparently it was just sex to him. As she beamed, and he chatted on my mind went back over the past year to the date. I looked for any signal that I had missed, but didn’t see one. I was reeling, wanting to scream. At one point Claire had thrown out that they had dated for six months.
Claire excused herself to the restroom and Dmitri patted my hand and said. “Don’t worry babe, you’re still my little bit on the side.”
I was devastated. After a few seconds I gathered my wits. “No. I am nobody’s bit on the side. Thank you for clarifying things for me. Also, thank you for remembering the date, however poor taste it is to ask me to meet you on our anniversary to find out you’re a two timing snake. Does Claire have any idea that her ‘darling’,I put extra emphasis on it the way she had, proposed to her the way your “work associate” using my fingers to quote the phrase, suggested after fucking your brains out?” I waited just a couple seconds. “NO? I didn’t think so.” I gathered my purse and scooted out of the booth. I turned around to face him. “Congratulations. Thanks for clearing my schedule for me. I certainly hope it doesn’t take Claire as long to see you’re a snake.” I took two steps then turned. “Oh, and don’t bother showing up Monday. You’re fired.”
I heard Claire asking him what I meant by what I had said as I walked out into the snowy night. I managed to get to the car before the tears flowed, driving straight to my apartment. I didn’t see that one coming.
You can’t use up creativity,
The more you use, the more you have.
Sadly, too often creativity is
smothered rather than nurtured.
There has to be a climate in which
new ways of thinking, perceiving,
questioning are encouraged.
Maya Angelou
In 1970 Alvin Toffler wrote a popular book – Future Shock, about the effects of change on our society. Toffler predicted that “millions of ordinary, psychologically normal people will face an abrupt collision with the future . . . many of them will find it increasingly painful to keep up with the incessant demand for change that characterizes our time.” Wow, surprisingly accurate wouldn’t you say?
The traditional jobs are going away, the technology we use is changing rapidly, and things we never could have imagined twenty years ago are commonplace. The smart phone I carry is a more powerful computer than the beast that ran a university taking an entire room. The office 9 to 5 is nearly outdated, with many working from home with the aid of his-speed internet. The work week hours are changing as well with many companies shifting to flex time.
We’ve always been in a state of flux, but it seems thing are accelerating. It’s been said the mother of invention is necessity. See a need, fill it. It’s how many entrepeneurs operate. So we are back to the conclusion that the only constant is in fact change.
Change provides opportunity, opportunity provides the chance for creative thinking. In our mostly autonomous society where many walk around in a daze not thinking past their next meal, thinking is a novel idea. Therefore the thinkers nad creative thinkers should have no problem in rising to the top. However, free thinkers are often criticized and put down to the point of having low self-esteem. We need to be thinking, not just functioning on auto pilot. We need to be thinking all the time. What needs are there around you? Is there some way to handle those needs? A simple invention such as bamboo toast tongues so the inventor wouldn’t burn his fingers, yet wouldn’t get electrocuted netted him a tidy little profit.
What simple things could you solve? If we always do things the same way because it’s how we’ve always done them then we will become as obsolete as many of the items in our basements. I think part of the “growing old” mentality is not dealing with change. I’m not going to wear the new styles that are obviously for the teen set; but I’m not going to adapt to the polyester ensembles either. change affects every aspect of our lives from clothing to the food we eat, to the cars we drive, our jobs, and everything in between.
If your house doesn’t have an “updated” look, you won’t get top dollar when you decide to sell. Likewise the lady in Wal-Mart with the big 80’s hair is made fun of ane ostracised because she hasn’t adapted to the changes in style. Don’t laugh – it could be you one day. I actually saw a girl I went to high school with wearing the big shoulder pads, and the big poufy 80’s hair just two days ago. Her hair is streaked with grey, and she shared pictures of her grandchildren with me. This is a girl I went to high school with, the same age as me, yet she has adapted the Grandma role eagerly. She no longer cares about the middle-aged paunch, or the fact that the outdated jeans are really too small. She is oblivious to anything except spoiling her grandkids, and that’s ok! For her.
I have dreams to obtain still. My classmate has achieved the dreams she set for herself. She got married, had kids, raised her family and now has grandchildren to care for and spoil. That’s wonderful, but it’s not me. I want more between the raising my family and grandchildren phase.
But, I digress. The point is that I’m not ready to become obsolete. Just as my schedule is revised yet again, my own revisions are continuing. I haven’t achieved reached my finish line. There are new opportunities before us with each new change. Bring it!
Write on my friends write on!
Yes I am plotting. I’m not plotting a new novel, I have plenty of thsoe to work on. I”m not plotting a cemetary into individual graves for the dead horse – that’s just futile. What I am plotting however is a Grand Mayan end of the World Party!
Yes that’s right! Prince was a little premature in his “Party like it’s 1999” song. The purple years have passeed without incident. Now, however even the national weather bureau is talking of the mayan calender ending summarily on December 21st. Perhaps my zombie horse was a predictor, it does say in the Bible that the dead shall rise in the end times. Hmmmm.
Regardless, we’ve decided that a grand festive Mayan party is in order. Hot chocolate will be served, as will a giant chocolate fountain to cover whatever you will, even the cute guy in the corner! (That’s right I’m talking to you!) Chocolate coins will be plentiful as the Mayans were rich with gold, and er, chocolate. Tortilla chips and salsa will be upon every table, and a tequila fountain flowing in the front corner. Other refreshments will be made available I am just undecided at the moment.
One of those “yule logs” will be burning on the computer screen where the great effigy sacrifice will be made to the jaguar god. A paper effigy pattern will be made available, so that the guests may attach whoever’s picture on it that they are going to offfer in sacrifice. At a specified time, effigies will be offered in mass burning on the yule log to appease the great jauguar god and hopefully delay the end of the the world. If that doesn’t work we will offer 10% of the Twinkie stash that was hidden for post apocolyptic survival.
I’m sure some hackers out there somewhere will come up with a Mayan trojan or some other virus to destroy laptops and tablets. I have no such deviousness planned. Simply a last chance party. Last chance to live it up if it truly is the end. Last change to believe that perhaps the Mayans really knew what they were doing an they didn’t die off becausee some other tribe killed them. I always thought perhaps the calendar maker died and no one else knew how to finish, then of course the Spaniards came in and took over.
Whatever reason, I’m really tired of this whole end of the world thing. Here’s a news flash – none of us get out of here alive! I know sounds like a pessimistic view but it’s not. Everyone has to die eventually. It’s all just part of the great circle of life. (cue the Lion King music) While everyone is refusing to attend a myriad of holiday parties for religious reasons, my party will be the smash hit of all time – becasue it’s the LAST party of all time! ROFL The end of the world does not discriminate for race, creed, color, sex, sexual preference, religious views, or age.
Tribal dancing, effigy sacrifices, mass consumption of chocolate – what can possibly go wrong with that? Let the tequila fountain flow!
Write on while you can my friends, write on!
quotidiandose 
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