What should I say? 10 things I have and will do.

There are just so many words to say.

For a long time my head seemed to have forgotten those words. I couldn't even try to write about life, and what's going on in it, I've been too busy living it these past few months. And then suddenly, the other day, they hit me. All of those words that haven't been poured out of my brain in oh-so long came rushing back into my conciousness, and I felt like writing again for the first time in ages. So I came back to this blog. Now I sit, fingers poised over the keyboard and try to figure out what to say. I'm overwhelmed with everything I want to say again, and it's so hard to just pick something. Should I update about my life? Should I talk about important things? Should I detail my love of the show Heroes and how I want fire hands?

I sit. And debate. Maybe after all this time, I should reintroduce myself, as I don't even seem to remember who I was a year ago-so much has changed.

I'm Sam. I'm 21, I live on the face of the sun (a.k.a. Phoenix, Arizona) and I am content.

Such a confusing word, that. Does content mean that I'm happy? That I want for nothing? Not exactly. Everyone wants something. I'm no different. I want plenty of things. But for the time being, I know that I am in a good place in life, and that the things I want can wait. I consider that being content, I suppose. Anyway, back on track...

I am engaged to a good guy, I live in a house, which I share with my fionce (when he's home) and our roomate, my younger brother. I have a job in which I do not a whole lot and get paid for it (no complaints there), and a crazy psycho dog named Kitty, who lives up to her name completely.

Life can't get much better than it is. I have bad days, I have complaints, and I sometimes feel like smashing my truck into the idiot driving 20 miles under the speed limit. But I'm not a cracked out skank down on Van Buren, so I'm obviously not doing too bad.

I really have no clue how to go about best describing my personality. Ah! Perhaps I will musically montage into a list--oh wait....no music. Ok, well you just imagine a montage right here.........

10 Examples of Me being Me.

1. I went on a family camping trip this summer and as a result of a fun night (read: lots of beer) with the cousins, fell out the SIDE of the pop up camper when I crawled into bed.

2. I have trained Kitty to attack on snore. You make a noise that sounds like you are snoring-you will get a paw in your face. This is benificial when waking up J (the fionce).

3. I once seriously asked Smeege (brother) to sniff a bottle from the nail salon and tell me if it was nail polish or cuticle oil. He has never had his nails done. Ever.

4. J does not enjoy going to theatre productions with me. I point out all of the mistakes to him in a whisper, and sing along to most every song.

5. I have convinced J that he was crazy by poking him for hours and denying/getting angry about it when he would accuse me of it.

6. My idea of cleaning the house is waiting untill it is actually dirty. I don't see the point of doing it premptively, because I'm just going to have to do it again later.

7. I really do want to have hands that shoot flame up out of them. It would be so much easier to light my cigarette when it's windy.

8. I grew up in a town where everyone knew everyone. So as soon as I could get the hell out of Dodge, I moved to a city. I will never live in a small town again.

9. I just went thru the month of Manuary--no no, not January. Manuary. Apparently that is what it is called when Smeege's friends from home invade your house for a week.

10. I will discuss and debate anything. I'm not religious, and while there are some things in politics that upset or anger me, it doesn't do it enough that I hold you personally responsible. I find this kind of thing very enjoyable too. As long as there are no personal attacks involved.


If you knew those things...I applaud you. If you didn't, now you do. Updating more regularly is something I would really like to do. Stay tuned to see if it happens.