The Week that Got Away

Uftah... Ever have one of those weeks that just snuck away from you? Seems like all I have these days. If only sleep weren't a requirement.

I spent Tuesday night driving north with a rescue dog heading to a new foster home. He was a sweety. Just laid in the back, came forward occasionally for a sniff and a pat and laid back down. I work with a rescue group in town on fostering and assisting in the occasional transport. I'm always amazed at these dogs that come out of shelters so quiet and shy then blossom into their full personalities as they get comfortable around their foster or permanent homes. This one was a border mix by the name of Sam. Just made me want to love on him.

The picture above was taken from my phone as I whizzed north. It doesn't do the scenery justice. We've had several wildfires burning across the state that left a beautiful haze in the setting sun that blurred and blended the hills around Kaycee beautifully. Of course I forgot the real camera at home.

Last night I attacked a project I've been putting off. It's a re-creation of a childhood Christmas stocking. I don't care much for color work. Simply put, I suck at it. I guess I should rephrase that as I don't care much for doing color work. I have seen a lot of dazzling color work. I prefer the more subtle myself but can appreciate the work itself. I myself am no good at it and prefer to play to my strengths, therefor I tend to steer clear of color work.

Today I have housework to do, and aquarium maintenance. After I get done with those joys I'll tear out the last several rows of last nights peach hued joy and retry. Fingers crossed.

Another Day Another Knit, Thank Goodness

So much for sleeping in this morning. To bad I can't even blame it on my own dogs. I was awoken by the neighbors dog barking incessantly from six am on. Their idea of dog ownership is one of those things that has always stumped me. I've seen it over and over again and it's something that always fumbles my sense of logic. I'm sure to them it makes perfect sense. I just don't see why one has a dog if they're just going to leave it in an outdoor kennel at all times. I've asked several acquaintances over the years that I've known to have such a dog and have yet to receive and answer that settles it for me. There's the, "They for protecting the house." How exactly does the dog protect the house when they're locked from it themselves? Will the dog magically be able to leave the kennel and enter the house to ward of thieves or murderers when the time comes? Then there's, "I'm allergic" or the, "I don't like having them in the house because they shed and smell." My thoughts are, why have a dog? I myself have allergies and can understand the wanting to eliminate the allergens but I wouldn't cage an animal over it. And if you don't like the hair or the smell, groom the dog occasionally or why have one if you can't live with the trappings? Of course, that also goes with the frequency that I get called for training ideas and walk into a house with a dog that has never been worked with. People see dogs out there that are well mannered and behaved and think they got that way on their own. Sorry, no they take work just like raising kids. Who likes the neighborhood brats that are allowed to go and do as they please and never taught manners? See the connection? Good kids of either species have to be raised that way. They don't just suddenly become. And the last explanation that I LOVE is "It's the kids dog." or "I don't like having an indoor dog". The kids dog? Who bought it? Who buys the food? Who pays the vet bill (If the dogs lucky enough to get to to go to the vet)? And why have it if you're not going to partake in ownership? Why have any animal that you're not going to partake in? I have seen the same attitude towards larger animals such as horses. Just to my own mind, I find it a bit baffling. I enjoy my dogs even when they have me cussing, worried, or just plain scared of the day I have to say goodbye to them. I do understand when one has a working animal. An animal that is kept for a job. Often dogs that are working livestock, or have other exuberant jobs don't make great house pets, especially in their younger years. But, that's not an animal that's just out in a kennel. To truly have a working dog you are out there working it. It's not bored in a kennel with nothing to do 24/7. I can understand that myself, just as I understand having a horse around, and having a horse or other livestock that is just that, livestock. Not the penned creature. Anyway, back on track, the neighbors dog woke me up this morning and since it decided to keep up the barking I decided to just get up. It may make an interesting night at work since as I type the dog is still barking.

Had a bit of blueberry pie for breakfast.

Unfortunately my tapioca starch was a bit old I think and did little in the way of thickening the filling, but it's downright delicious no matter that you have to eat it with a spoon. I'm not sure what is with the bumpy top crust but it's one of the flakiest best tasting crusts I've made despite the "landscape" of it all. With full bellies and continued barking we went to the river and to watch some other oddities.

I can't figure out why the posting template keeps laying this picture on its side. Sorry.

 For the life of me I don't understand on a hot day floating down the river roasting yourself to bright pink. But hey, as long as they're enjoying themselves and staying out of trouble they should enjoy the weather however they see fit. I'll stick to taking the kayak out for a float myself.

Then we just enjoyed the scenery and goofed about ourselves a bit in the water.

Back home I finished the Damask Shawl. Unfortunately it's a bit more of a Shawlette due to the smaller yarn (Remember I had the self destructing yarn issue?), and the more appropriate needle size for a smaller yarn. I did bump up to the largest size in the pattern and am glad I did. I'm sure she'll appreciate the work just the same. In fact I'm thinking of sending this one to my sister in law instead and re-knitting it in the replacement yarn that the Great Adirondack Yarn Company sent me. I'm going to think on it a bit I do believe.

I've been asked recently about blocking, and blocking lace in particular. Here is how I typically do it, though at the Rocky Mountain Mens Knitting Retreat we were shown a fascinating technique using PVC piping, rubberbands and hooks that I will try in the near future. It looked so much simpler.

First I soak the finished item after all the ends are woven in for several minute in a tepid water bath with a rinseless wash such as "Soak or Eucerin"

Then after draining the water I wrap the item in towels and pull out the extra water which leaves me with a damp wonderfully wet woolen scented mass of stitches.

I gently so as not to over stretch areas (probably over anal) spread the mass out, find the reference lines such as the edge where the border meets the body of the work and start pinning to shape

Using a yardstick for measuring and to provide a straight edge, I continue the pinning process to fill out the shape. I use less pins such as on the lower border to give me the desired points and more to even out the edge and like on the top edge.

I try to even out the knit work as I go with my hands to keep the stitch work showing its best and looking even and precise. 

 Then I take artsy fartsy pictures just to make myself feel smug with my work. Everyone in my opinion should feel smug about finished projects after all.

Here in Wyoming the climate is a bit on the dry side, so to slow the drying process I lay towels across the work (Here are the last of my rags that Bob hasn't stole from the laundry to add to the dog towels. Obviously I need to do some more transferring of supplies again). This helps slow the drying process to really set the blocking in. Other items that I've let dry in their own time have bounced back to the pre-blocking state rather exuberantly. I found that by slowing the process down with towel layering and a real good soaking with a mister before finishing really gets the blocked shape set well.

And that's about it. I'll eave out all the picking out, fussing and worry at trying to get the thing as straightened out as possible... it's all rather embarrassing. Now I let it sit until tomorrow when I check on it to see where we're at. If it's still damp I'll re cover and turn a fan on in the room to get circulation to assist with the last bit. If it's still soaking like some fibers tend to hold onto the fiber, I will take the towels off for the last drying stages.

I've seen all kinds of blocking surfaces. I have found the guest bedroom's spare bed the best surface. I know many who use an emptier rooms floor. My downstairs room has carpet that still smells of the previous owner's dog which is not what I prefer to leave my knitted gifts smelling of. Also with a cat that wanders downstairs to keep cool I don't trust her not to mess with blocking items. The bed also accepts pins well for holding tension. The aforementioned technique that was shown us allowed the blocker to build a relatively cheap frame for the item to be blocked and then was simply stood in a corner to dry. It was very space effective and mobile. My only concern here is that with the dryness I may have to re-wet it several times through the blocking to keep it damp long enough.

Hope it all made sense...
Q

Cooking My Way out of the Blues?

It's been a busy weekend in the kitchen here. I'm not quite sure what bee stung me where but I seem to just be going at it. Last week at the Farmers Market I picked up a bag of little green apples that I told Bob I would bake into a pie for him. On Friday following my stretch of 12hr shifts I attacked said pie and seem to be going at it since. Yesterday at the market I picked up a flat of blueberries, some green beans, red potatoes, pickling cucumbers, and some delicious orange tomatoes. The berries were for another pie that is in the oven as I type. I love blueberry baked goods. Always have. My mom used to make me blueberry strudel in stead of birthday cakes. In fact, I love berries in general. Even tart lips stuck to your soft palette green gooseberries. 

The potatoes, beans and tomatoes went into dinner along with a bourbon vanilla pork chops recipe I got out of a magazine I picked up the other day. Dinner was pretty darn tasty. In fact left overs are calling my name for lunch. And this morning, I'm feeling pretty chipper as I watch my crust brown, dry the morning's batch of dishes and in general feel kind of smug about my lazy Sunday morning productivity levels.

And for some strange reason I thought to try my hand at home pickling yesterday.

With that all out, let me move on to other things. Stop emailing me about the teddy bear in my last posting. That's Blue. Leave him alone. I'm very protective of Blue. God knows he's looked over me many a night as a kid after watching scary movies or sneaking reading material beyond what my poor underage over active imagination could take. My mom brought Ol' Blue home when she brought me home on a long ago Easter Sunday. That's right. He's as old as I am and one of the last vestiges of childhood I hold onto. Sullivan the Great Dane about lost his life last night as he came out of the bedroom with him in his mouth and an eye missing due to me leaving him down where I shouldn't have. Damn him. I'm sure some of you can relate and have pieces of your childhood tucked away.

So don't talk smack about my bear.

Have a good lazy Sunday.

Better Late then Never

I had planned to post yesterday. It was on my list of to do items for my first day off work. Yes, every Thursday morning in the quiet hours of work I tend to sit and make my list of "stay awake" projects. But somehow I had forgotten that I had scheduled myself some afternoon training appointments. After a particularly bad experience when I worked both ICU and the local zoo where in an exhausted state I managed to not be able to react fast enough to an owl got myself footed nicely, I try to make sure I get some sleep before handling animals. So, I made a point of sleeping the morning away so I could get up and go work with other peoples dogs. Unfortunately that cut into my morning blog posting and photography time.

To combat this, I got up early this morning and got a pie baked, and using morning light some pictures taken. Now here I sit getting a post together wondering about why I'm stressing about a self imposed time table. I have truly forgotten how much I don't care for making pie crust. I don't know why. It's not truly a chore, but I have never cared for it. That's why I opted for the "Dutch" apple pie that doesn't require the top crust. Just makes my life a little easier. It's also why I often go the cobbler route over the pie option as well.

Please don't mind the dusty cook top. I've worked all week and haven't used it. I am still amazed by how dusty Wyoming is. You leave for a week and come home to find everything with a coating of dust that makes it appear you've been gone for months.

And I have a question for all the other cooks out there. Are you ever amazed at the prep time listed on recipes? I am always staggered and wonder what world these people live in. I know it takes me more than 10minutes to peel, core and slice enough apples for a pie, combine the cinnamon, sugars, and nutmeg into it, prep my crust and stuff a pie. And this is not the first time I've noticed these times that I typically need at least half again to twice as much time with. And I cook regularly. I'm not a dolt in the kitchen. I'm not a chef by any means, but I make edible and occasionally fantastic food. Admittedly there have been failures in the kitchen as well. But I am always curious where they get those approximate prep times.

And... Baby Hats. About time I got caught up from my knitters block. I try to make a few a month, but failed in July which with traveling and a lot of other time constraints, was a very busy month for myself. But I got July and Augusts quotas filled and heading out the door tonight.

Being Friday, I hope you all have a great weekend.

To Jez,

I was going to write you a “make-nice” reply in that discussion thread as I went through later in the morning and saw you and your obvious friends’ responses. I just shook my head and wondered where you got the ideas that you had written there. I hadn’t said most of what you seemed to read into it, and I plainly didn’t understand some responders e-speak remarks. I don’t regularly speak in acronyms outside of my work associated ones. It’s a personal thing and something I find quite saddening to our culture.  I then thought, no, I’ll write her a personal email and went to your profile. Then I found myself stumped and unable to continue. First I thought it was because it was worthless. I should just let this die as the discussion thread. Even though I wanted to point out my feelings towards lack of inflection in written text and thought perhaps we just crossed wires. Or it was just the fact that our two sense of humor just weren’t well suited to one another. Not everyone gets other views, social inclinations, politics, religion or just their basic personality. We’re all different and have different likes and dislikes after all. Isn’t it great?

I even started to write it all out but was drawn back to the discussion forum and your profile and realized what my hang up was. I’m probably wrong since I have precious little to go on since you like to make assumptions about others but leave very little for others to find out about you on your profile. You see, I think the main issue is that you are the exact kind of person I was speaking of. Truly, you’re attitude of arrogance that I got off your postings and the self picture of a ginger bread man with the quip "bite me", sang out of the exact self righteous attitude I have found so irritating in life. And the fact that you made no efforts to know who I am and confirm your thoughts of me as a condescending ass towards women. Because if you had you would find that most of my friends are strong independent women that I cherish having in my life. My only role model in my young life had been a strong willed even bull headed mom who muscled her way through the ranks of military men to make a place for herself. But you wouldn’t know that… Nor would you know that the term hon wasn’t meant poorly, though I do admit it was a poor choice with even worse timing since I hadn’t realized how high your hackles seemed to be. And that, is because I don’t know you. 

You see, this is the internet. All things here are posted by people. Whether it’s an opinion, a humorous anecdote, a public notice, or just someones online blog. All of them, posted by people. And typically skewed by said persons point of view, personal morals and ethics, or whatever personality disorders and corrective drugs that effects them. That’s something I always try to keep in mind when I’m surfing. With that said, if you knew my friends, family, co-workers, and many acquaintances you would find out that I try to keep things as real as possible. I in real life do say horrible things. Sometimes like that particular time, I felt kind of smug about it, so I shared it. I on other occasions have made myself feel like a right true ass, as I think this posting also reflected had it been read as I meant it to be. But I can’t make you read it with my point of view or sense of sarcasm. You can only read it from your point of view, and I wish our two view points could have meshed easier. Actually, no I don’t. Because I’m not writing this for you, and I’m not writing this to make nice or apologize. Because the more I read your snotty remarks, the less I like you and really don’t care what you think. I’m writing this because I just wanted to get it off my chest so I can go to sleep, have a great rest and leave you to fume about that condescending ass you put in his place this morning. That little evil part of me even hopes it ruins your whole day. That little pearl of wisdom that I passed on that stated “If you don’t like it, don’t read it”. I stay true to that myself. I rarely comment online regarding things that I don't understand or didn’t find as entertaining as they did and tend to steer clear of their postings from there on out. Like I will when I see you and you’re buds. Obviously we’re not on the same wave length, and I’m okay with that to the point  that I don’t even care if you come here and read this posting. Like I said, it wasn’t for you, it was for me. I am a selfish ass in that sense.

Don’t bother emailing me, or commenting here or the other forum. This is the last I have to say on it because I believe in the wisdom that a dear old friend (She's even a girl!) told me once. “Arguing on the internet is like winning the sprints in the Special Olympics. Even if you win, you’re still retarded.” 

My apologies to anyone who might be bothered by that. I have no hard feelings or dislike of mentally handicapped people. There’s just wisdom there that despite the lack of political correctness, I think is very appropriate. And any of my readers who are stumped, don’t worry, it wasn’t worth this much attention, I just needed to get it out. There will be no more on the matter. You all have a great day!

He's finally at it again... some people.

First… Thanks everyone! 500 visits! That gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. A dry one though, not like the feeling of peeing myself or anything. Well, it’s been a great many years since I’ve done that myself so maybe it does feel like that… I was dreaming I was swimming in a lake and you can just pee in a lake. It’s not a pool, so I just, ooohhhhhhh but I digress. Seriously digress. So sorry. Thanks everyone!

I apologize that it has been a bit since an update. I’ve been kinda down and out for the last month. Got a bit sick after the retreat and never perked back up. It went through not only the department I work in a bit but also the facility. Left us unlucky ones a bit wrung out. But I’m getting there. I seem to be having some late onset homesickness as well so I think mentally I’m a bit down currently, but I won’t whine too much here.

On a good note, I have got some knitting done. A few months back I was asked if I would be willing to provide hats for a neighboring community’s hospital. I’ve been hacking into my stash for left over project yarn and have been trying to provide a few hats a month. July got away from me and I didn’t get any done, but I have a nice big batch ready to go now. In fact, I have the last one almost done as my fingers hack this out on the keyboard.

Of all the knitting I could have chosen to leap back in with, it’s downright good mood knitting. I don’t know what it is about knitting baby things that even makes me the yard ape, scrotum rat hater feel good. But it does. Maybe it’s because it’s for a good cause, maybe because it’s stash busting, but I think of it as karma recharging. For all those things that fly out of my mouth… don’t worry, I have a good one for you from yesterday, it helps tip the karma scale back over just a bit. This means my fall will be a little more gentle, or blessedly short?. Yes, I said fall. No matter how much karma knitting I do, I can’t make up for all of the things I say, think, or do. No betting, just take my word for it.

As an example, yesterday: I’m in the middle of my night shifts. Not an excuse, just a bit of mood lighting as I set the scene. So I got up, dragged on some clothes and took the kids to the river. Got soaking wet and begged treats off old ladies (the dogs did, not me I swear. Treats off old lady’s makes me sound like some kind of gigolo for the senior citizens). Then we hit Walmart, one of my favorite places to go (are you getting the sarcasm here? Good) before heading towards the vet to buy Sullivan’s new prescription diet. Don’t even ask me how much a prescription diet costs for a Great Dane. Ungrateful Mongrel. As I approach the vet coming down the hill, flip on the signal and downshift in my little four on the floor. I glanced in the mirror and saw the black SUV crest the hill and gain on me fast, but hey, I have to turn so they’ll either change lanes or slow down and there was plenty of room. Before I can make the turn she’s on my butt and follows me into the lot. I can honestly say she’s well over the posted 40 as she approached me. I wrestle just the Great Delay from the car stuffed with four dripping beasts and go in giving her room in case she has a vet emergency. I would have been driving like that if it was some kind of crisis with one of my critters. Been there done that baby. But she’s taking her time getting out from behind the wheel so I go in, and while at the counter awaiting the debit card busting bag of food, she steps up behind me (it was kind of a crowded lobby and I had the doofus in a sit and stay beside me) announces her views on my driving practices.

“You know you really shouldn’t downshift to slow down before braking because your brake lights don’t come on and the rest of us can’t tell you’re slowing and might hit you.”

At which several things went through my head… First I thought, well, if you weren’t so far over the speed limit you would have proper time to react to changes in traffic patterns. Then I thought, I like my brakes very much and downshifting is a very legal method of slowing ones car and I ‘m pretty sure you would have been ticketed for unsafe driving practices before I. Then I thought, are you really that stupid? And I ran with it, and as the following made it past my lips I heard that voice in the back of my head screaming “Nooooooooooooooooo.” But it was too late.

“You know you really shouldn’t say such things because the rest of us can’t tell if you’re really that stupid or just pretending to be.”

Then there was that little silence as she gave me that dumb look that women of a certain class do when you respond other than in the apologetic manner they were expecting and feel is their god given right. And into that silence came the front desk staff of the clinic who know me quite well. Seriously, we’re there all the time. I could afford so much more in life if I didn’t insist on having dogs. One giggled and the other one who knows me better came around the desk, took the lady by the elbow and escorted her to an empty room. God Bless Deb.

I'll have hat pics tomorrow. Now, I'm going to bed. I still have to work tonight after all.

Work Appropriate Conversation? That Never Stopped Me...

Fluffer -noun
1. A machine used in textile factories to fluff fibers after weaving. Also known as a fuller
2. The title of a movie released in 2001 directed by Richard Glatzer about the role of the "Fluffer" on adult cinema sets
3. A person hired to keep male porn stars in a state of arousal to allow for prime filming opportunities on set and limit delays by utilizing oral sex techniques.
 

Now that we have a vocabulary lesson out of the way, our main concern is with the final definition. You see, over the last couple of weeks, this term has come up several times. Why, I'm not quite sure (Yes, there is the possibility that it's due to my mere presence in the conversation). Although tonight, it was stumbled across by a coworker on accident wherein which I proceeded to run with the new topic. Said coworker as well as the other three in the office at that time are now educated as to the third definition of the term "Fluffer; or, to Fluff".

I was then notified by my co-workers that they had informed a third party who worked in the ER of the terminology. Great... Now, I don't mind the continuation of the knowledge to others, I just hope and pray as this is at work that my name was not associated with the term. Of course it was. I then found out that this was a knowledge swap since I was asked if I knew what a "Jacob's Ladder" was, to which I replied that it was a plant. But no, this was in regards to genitalia piercings. I then took a wild guess of the only kind of piercing I could think this term would be in regards to since the extent of my genitalia piercing exposure has been in the patient - caregiver capacity.

Later in that shift I took a walk and ran into the third party. She asked about the term and I told her that I originally had come to have knowledge of the term because some friends of a past boy friend had rented the movie for our once monthly get together. It was an awkward evening. Let's just leave it at that. I had honestly not heard the term in a great many years until it was brought up jokingly in conversation with a group of friends where we then decided that we could all use a fluffer in our lives. It was maybe even a role we needed more than a cleaning lady. It would certainly improve my standard of living. Said third party laughed and stated that she too could use one and that all relationships whether straight, gay, multiple party could probably benefit. I certainly agreed. There are just days you're not in the mood and want to say, "Can you take care of that over there for me?" As you jerk your head over to your spouse, "I'm just not in the mood. I'm going to take a bath and read a book, thanks." I see in it the possibility of making things win-win for relationships every where. I wish I could give them out as wedding presents.

The only thing I could think of that would be better is a having a maid/fluffer. I mean, having someone in the house who will do the dishes, fold the laundry, scrub the floor and polish the knobs? How can that be bad? Okay, I'm getting carried away just for the sake of getting carried away. I really don't want such a person in my life. Well, I could use a house keeper... Until that day I guess I'll keep vacuuming up my own messes and those of the dogs. Speaking of fluffy, you should see some of the dust bunnies in my house. One brought back flashbacks of Donnie Darko the other day.
 

Really, I felt the need to bring this up because I notice these little runs of topics in my life. Not always along the adult theme either. Do you ever have those times where it seems like something keeps getting brought up in casual conversation with friends, family, or coworkers? Does it make you feel like the universe is trying to tell you something? No, I don't think the cosmos are trying to tell me or anyone else that we're lacking good oral stimulation. I just sometimes wonder about these thematic runs that occasionally happen. I know at times, it's just us spreading the theme. Something is said and before you know it, everyone is asking about something or joking about it creating a run. Other times it's less subtle. I one time thought about an event that happened a couple years prior and proceeded to run into the very RN who was involved within just a couple days as they were telling something about that same event. Neither of us still worked for that organization at this point.

Now I sit here trying to bring this whole little self therapy session on fluffing to an end with some kind of closure... Yeah, no closure I can come up with. So, hope you're enjoying what ever theme your world is on right now. That is if it's a good one. If you're on some twisted psychopathic theme, STOP. And I personally abhor when I get on a self pitying theme and I try to turn tale and run towards lighter, funnier times as fast as possibly. You know, Fluffy thematic subjects.

And on fluffy, here's the latest knitting. That's right, i'm knitting again. About time...

Multiple Personlaity Disorder? Not Nearly AS Exciting as That.

Someone who reads my blog but I only know in a semi-professional manner made a comment that she has heard from others that I have a great sense of humor and was always amused by my blog entries but she felt there was a disconnect from the person she knew and the "online personality". Within mere days I had an email conversation with one of the other members of the men’s knitting retreat I had gone to that followed a similar vein. And now today, I had someone from the dog park this afternoon say the very same thing. For some reason this sense of "Different Roles" theme seemed to be bothering me and I decided to try to lay it out.

See, when I'm relaxed and/or just not concerned with someone elses thoughts regarding me, I can be nasty, crude, hilarious, and blue as a toilet mint. But in a professional situation, or more importantly in an open forum, I tend to keep quiet and listen more than I speak. As I laid it out to Jack...

"I feel there are three general groups of people when it comes to public forums.

1. The quiet listeners/thinkers. I call them the mullers
Those that tend to take it all in and actually say little, but often these are the ones that truly command attention when they speak (I hope that I normally fall in this group)

2. The conversationalists/debaters
They love to be in the mix of it all. They enjoy the exchange of ideas and airing of opinions. Often when a conversation gets heated, they're the amazing set who seem to be able to walk away with no hurt feelings and feel "refreshed" afterwards and need to go home to hash out the event and their thoughts with whoever is nearby

3. The ranters/ragers/blowhards/it's all about me folks.

They tend to always try to steer the conversation back to their own agenda's and often think if they're louder they're more right. I come from a family of these, and I strive to not fall into the easy trap of not doing so. If I find I'm getting my back up regarding a topic I want to lean this way. This is why I think I feel the need to blog. It's my forum to vent a little and maybe by doing it there, it gives me more patience to shut up and listen when if other situations."

When I am surrounded by people I don't know in a situation that is more formal than just being out in public. I tend to retract into myself a bit more. Mainly it's due to the fact that I learn more about a person when I shut my own mouth and listen to what is coming out of theirs. Even more importantly for someone who tends to be a little mistrustful of groups, I get a sense of the group by listening to it. By being quiet and listening to what people do or say to fill that silence can teach you a lot about that person.

Anyway; my point being, if you ever meet me somewhere and feel as though I am more subdued that you imagined I would be... get over it. Don’t think you get the full Q Experience in the first encounter. Kidding. Just be patient. You stick around me long enough I'll say something to horrify your sensibilities, or utterly disgust you with a medical story regarding a groin wound while you try to eat your tuna steak, or just give you a gut wrenching visual for no apparent reason than I just wanted to see you dry heave.  Remember, I do it out of love.

Q

PS:

 It's funny, I've had this conversation in a relationship before... Is that bad?