It's obvious that I am a technology retard: my eye for color and line are impeccable off-line, in realtime. Where Cyberia is concerned there is a misfiring neuron or a skipped synapse. Or vice-versa. Saying my design/code sucks is redundant because *I* have already said it. Don't bother. Occasionally you will find a reference to beer and sausages in my weblog. I don't know why; don't fucking question absolutes. I was born in the Delta region of the U.S., hotfooted it all over the place, then landed in the hell that is referred to as Alabama (Hellabama for short). I bide my time here until my sentence is commuted. I don't like to repeat myself. Likewise, I don't like making others repeat themselves. Speak up, fucktard! E-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-E. You are worthy of being heard, at least until I tell you otherwise. I make friends to keep them, so I am very selective. Nothing personal. Music is sustenance. It is unmercifully woven into every aspect of my life. About 16 years ago, at a shamefully young age, I learned that a spoon is something you cook with, not cook up/down/allaround with. It has definitely altered my outlook and people skills. I have family, and I am protective of them. Nearly everyone mentioned here has an alias for that very reason. I post semi-anonymously for their well-being, not my own. I have blonde hair, some of the bluest eyes you've ever seen, tig ole bitties, a filthy mouth (home to an All-American-Girl smile) and a fairly decent brain. I am right-handed and an Aries. Current news causes horrific nightmares, so I don't watch it or read it (on purpose, anyway...). I rely on my partner, who is worthy of trust in this role and who is also a CNN-aholic. I was raised Baptist, much to my chagrin. Despite this, I very much believe in God and His spirit of love for stupid creatures, namely humans. I make love AND war; I enjoy the two pretty equally. One truism I hold to steadfastly: 'Spend good money on your hair, your underwear and your shoes and everything else will fall into place.' My momma taught me that. You know what? It's an absolute. I seem to have a fixation with adjectives that end in a 'y'. I love and respect my momma, who is Southern, makes a mean coconut pie and made me look things up in the dictionary for myself as I was growing up instead of telling me proper spellings and/or definitions. I drive way too fast because I like it immensely. I don't think pink is pretty, nor do I find it ugly, but you won't catch me wearing it. My fingernails are ferociously bitten, my toenails are religiously manicured. I am all those adjectives, those common nametags we hold for women: mother, daughter, sister, wife. Feminism can suck my cock. I am constantly trying to find my place in the world, but I won't often admit it. Mountain Dew is a life force to be reckoned with and handled with care. I have a 'thing' for bass players. In a big way. I am a nocturnal sort, but circumstances require that I be attentive during the day. Can a girl have too many books or pairs of shoes? Ditto for lipsticks. I respect forthrightness, even at the cost of a little cosmetic damage. I find a sense of humor invaluable.