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$hm. hello tumblr. not sure yet if i’m pleased to meet you, but let’s give this a try. part of me is screaming, “don’t do it!” yet here i am. but isn’t that life? doing things you know you ought not to do and not doing the things you should be doing … sound vaguely familiar to anyone else? so i guess since this is a blog, i should start blogging. not super-crazy about the level of publicly displayed introspection that may involve. :self esteem issues: let’s start slowly, folks. name’s babs. well, not my boston irish catholic given name, but the only part of that equation that’s left is the irish anyway. eons ago, my boyfriend-now-husband picked up on the ‘babs’ from my bff’s who picked up on it from one very adorable guy/friend that started the trend. since then, only a dozen or two people have used the moniker, but i prefer it that way — sort of a closer term of endearment. and yes, i do still smirk inside thinking of the cutie that started it all… :sigh: …he doesn’t elaborate much in the annual christmas card. :\ name, check. baby steps … if i don’t even want to type about myself, how much more so do you not want to read about me? let’s skip to generalities. i love to skip. la la la… capitalization not a priority. obviously. if the pic wasn’t clue enough, i’m ‘one of those born again christians.’ music. oh yes. ooooooh yes. coffee. yes, please. again? guilt, we are each other’s arch nemesis, nemesises, nemeses… mystery men, i do so love thee. married 20 years. still in love most days. ;p i love to cook. when my kitchen’s clean & the ingredients are oh so fresco. tony bennett helps on larger, entertaining feasts. three kids. they all got hubby’s musical gene. :) sidebar: boys are waaaaay easier than girls. oy. almost had to use the shift key on those two letters. i still have e-mail in my inbox from february. my long-distance family stalks/judges me via facebook. i could never live more than 10 miles from the ocean. i may not go nearly enough, but i need to know it’s there. i shall try to keep my blurbs briefish. boring in smaller, more palatable doses. nobody should waste their time writing or reading such crap anyway. … and, scene. p.s. fwiw, i’m not really a huge fan of skipping — black eyes and all.$

hm. hello tumblr. not sure yet if i’m pleased to meet you, but let’s give this a try.

part of me is screaming, “don’t do it!” yet here i am. but isn’t that life? doing things you know you ought not to do and not doing the things you should be doing … sound vaguely familiar to anyone else?

so i guess since this is a blog, i should start blogging. not super-crazy about the level of publicly displayed introspection that may involve. :self esteem issues: let’s start slowly, folks.

name’s babs. well, not my boston irish catholic given name, but the only part of that equation that’s left is the irish anyway. eons ago, my boyfriend-now-husband picked up on the ‘babs’ from my bff’s who picked up on it from one very adorable guy/friend that started the trend. since then, only a dozen or two people have used the moniker, but i prefer it that way — sort of a closer term of endearment. and yes, i do still smirk inside thinking of the cutie that started it all… :sigh: …he doesn’t elaborate much in the annual christmas card. :\

name, check. baby steps …

if i don’t even want to type about myself, how much more so do you not want to read about me? let’s skip to generalities. i love to skip. la la la…

capitalization not a priority. obviously.
if the pic wasn’t clue enough, i’m ‘one of those born again christians.’
music. oh yes. ooooooh yes.
coffee. yes, please. again?
guilt, we are each other’s arch nemesis, nemesises, nemeses…
mystery men, i do so love thee.
married 20 years. still in love most days. ;p
i love to cook. when my kitchen’s clean & the ingredients are oh so fresco. tony bennett helps on larger, entertaining feasts.
three kids. they all got hubby’s musical gene. :) sidebar: boys are waaaaay easier than girls. oy. almost had to use the shift key on those two letters.
i still have e-mail in my inbox from february.
my long-distance family stalks/judges me via facebook.
i could never live more than 10 miles from the ocean. i may not go nearly enough, but i need to know it’s there.

i shall try to keep my blurbs briefish. boring in smaller, more palatable doses.

nobody should waste their time writing or reading such crap anyway.

… and, scene.

p.s. fwiw, i’m not really a huge fan of skipping — black eyes and all.