Oh, and in case you couldn't tell by the Aiello's Post...

or as if you even care, I'm back in Pittsburgh. I will be here over New Years.

Let 2009, the 00's, and links to Muskegon (blech), Michigan come to an end. :) Instead, I shall celebrate and dance on the grave of a very bad year and a break from craziness. :)

Challenge for the Week

When the crazy people come a callin', do not answer the phone. Instead, let it go to voicemail. That's what it's there for. Crazy people and telemarketers.

Word of the Day: Perspicacious.

Perspicacious: "My friend is normally not very smart, but every once in awhile, he becomes very perspicacious."

Best pizza in Squirrel Hill (and probably Pittsburgh)

The relationship between a pizza and its city is deep and soulful. New York has the original; Chicago has its deep dish; L.A. has the California-style. There is even Tex-Mex versions in cities of the Southwest (a sweet BBQ like variety). Each pizza unmistakably resembles its home.

In Squirrel Hill - my neighborhood in the city - there are no less than six pizza places. All local; there are no chains which serve walk-ins - all delivery. Walk in, order some slices, eat-in; call ahead, order a pie, take out. ; a few of the locals even deliver.

Around the SqHill, the pizza of legend (and supposedly the pizza of Pittsburgh) is Mineo's. When I first moved here, the only thing anyone could talk about was Mineo's pizza and desserts from Gullifty's (and the dessert is a story for another time.) Mineo's is certainly a fine choice, but if you ever get a minute, saunter up Murray towards Hobart a bit and visit Aiello's.

The guys in the place are about as Italian as you can get; one is actually pretty hot. Aside from him as a distraction, the pizza is pretty authentic. I have yet to get something from them I hate, even the hoagies (which I rarely partake in but fall victim to their call occasionally).

When at Aiello's, order the red pizza. The key is the combination of a very delicious, crispy pan crust, and a homemade sauce. Put whatever toppings you want on it to your taste, because the combination of those two things really makes the pizza. The pizza is well balanced between cheese, sauce, and dough - it's solid. An all-around, no-nonsense pizza that leaves you satisfied without going overboard, leaving you feeling weighed down and bloated. It's a hard-working pizza - gets in there, and gets the job done. Like the people here, in some ways. In short, Aiello's is the Pittsburgh pizza.

If you're in a hoagie mood, I recommend a cheese steak. Now, I know that that's a Philly thing, but Aiello's hits a balanced Pittsburghian note here too. They use Mancino's Italian bread, which is definitely not store bought or GFS schlock. Order extra sauce; like the pizza, the bread and sauce make the hoagie. If you're a light eater, get a half. The whole is more of a Sunday afternoon work in progress - start at the beginning of a Steelers game and finish by the end.

As a backup or if you want something stronger and a bit heavier, the Italian hot sausage is also a good choice. And I mean the sandwich and not the hottie behind the counter. Despite working in a pizza place, he remains light and studly in appearance. But if you can order him on a plate...I digress.

Finally, although I don't think they make them there in the store, order a peanut butter and chocolate cookie. It's just sweet enough with the peanut butter - but it doesn't wash away the taste of the great foods you just ate, but instead the chocolate compliments it. It's also chunky (my favorite type of cookie) so it doesn't feel like you're cheated when you pay a dollar for it. Order two slices or a half a hoagie, and let the cookie end it gracefully.

Total price? Under 7 or 8 dollars, depending on the number of toppings you get. Not bad at all. Aiello's is my choice for Pittsburgh pizza.
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Poker league

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Already my parents are driving me nuts, so..

My Mother and Father are driving me nuts already on Christmas. Apparently, the electric stove - which my mother never had to cook on growing up or in home economics class in high school - is a P.O.S. The temperature control on it runs hotter than what it appears on the knobs, causing things to overheat, overflow, boilover, burn, etc. You'd think that, after having this happen a number of times, most people would be careful and just watch what they are cooking. She walks away, and something happens - a clear accident. Instead, she throws a fit, complete with a stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush. Then she blames the stove which, fair enough, doesn't work properly. She blames the fact they don't have a gas-line and a gas stove. Just nuts. And eff me for saying "it was just an accident." It's just the end of the world. Everyone is horrible. And electric stoves are what caused my Grandma Bolton go be such a horrible cook, and "lose her mind." Pssh.

In other crazy Michigan news - apparently someone tried to blow up a plane in Detroit. The plane was coming in from Amsterdam and someone tried to explode the plane. They set off some firecrackers first. They suspect Al Qaeda, but we can't really be sure of that yet, can we?

But most telling are the comments from passengers. The observations from one gentleman from Holland, Michigan - in the western, conservative, Republican part of the state - was that he heard "a pop and saw some smoke and fire." Then, he said, “a young man behind me jumped on him.” He said there was a little bit of commotion for about 10 to 15 minutes, and that the way passengers responded made him proud to be an American.

Another passenger from Pontiac - in the eastern, more liberal part of the state - was that he was unaware of the incident until departing the plane, and that he did not "see or hear anything."

Now, I have to say: if someone on an international plane started setting off firecrackers, or setting a shoe on fire, or whatever else - I would probably jump on them too. I'd probably beat the snot out of them. There is a good chance I would end their life before they could end mine, if I judged if that was their aim. I want to make that very clear.

But it's telling that the gentleman from Holland felt the need to parade his patriotism. Why is that the first emotion that he felt? If I were him, I don't know that I would have felt an overwhelming sense of national identity when interviewed. Indeed, we found out that the assailant was on the government's No-Fly List. If anything, I think I would have thanked God, thanked the passenger who threw himself on the assailant, thanked everyone who assisted. That the sudden quick-and-astute actions of his fellow passengers could be linked to nationalism/patriotism is puzzling. The government had nothing to do with what happened on that plane, and members of any society (American, British, Iraqi, Swahili) probably would have done the same things to save their skin. It's called the survival instinct. It's a basic human psychological motivation, and it knows no geopolitical boundaries.

Interesting, though. Today, I watched the Lord of the Flies (the 1990 movie). I read the book long ago, but the movie was a brutal and graphic depiction that always stuck with me. If ever there was an allegory for the way that our country works, and even what happened on that plane, it was that movie. The strong, savage, war-like children band together and pledge their allegiance to the lithe, muscular, older hunting boy, Jack. Jack, who before being stranded on the island, was rumored to have stolen a car and been a rather "bad boy." Despite all his failings in leading a tribe that turns murderous, Jack gains conrol of the group - killing Simon (the curious intellectual) and Piggy (the sensitive-but-physically weak moralist), and eventually turning the hunt on Ralph (the ethical leader). The children follow him as long as he provides fun, the illusion of security, and swine meat. Oink. In their hedonism, they forget the ultimate moral rule - killing is bad - and surrender themselves to their pledge to Jack. They lose sight of the morally-correct leadership of Ralph, which is to remain alive but not lose their human decency, for that of Jack.

And then they are rescued. We are left with an image of once-mighty young hunters and their righteous former leader, cowering before a U.S. Marine who has come to rescue them. Tears come to their eyes, and Ralph bursts into tears. The look on the savage hunters faces suggest that reality has sunk back in and the outside world has come calling, where murder is wrong. And they have killed two of their friends.

How does his relate to the gent on the plane? The patriotic gent from conservative West Michigan? Instead of being thankful for the smart, quick thinking of his fellow passenger - one of whom tackled the assumed bomber - he puts his faith in strong, war-like, patriotic America. The conservative's nostalgic America of September 11, 2001 to January 20, 2009. The America of the patriot act; of the invasion of Iraq; of waterboarding; of Gitmo; of Abu Gharaib. He puts his faith in not just STOPPING the assailant, but the faith that will will retaliate, dominate, and then destroy. In short, he puts his faith in an America of Jack's, and if felt good to say it out loud.

The guy from Pontiac? I'm sure he was just happy to be alive. He reported what he knew to the news, and moved on with his life. He'll probably go see his family and friends on Christmas Day, have dinner, and maybe hug those he loves a little closer. Monday, he'll go to work. Life will go on. I suspect, from his comments, he knew that the entire situation was out of his hands from the get go, but that America had nothing to do with why he was alive. He may put his faith in Ralph's America - the America where people take a more pragmatic-and-measured view of things.

Of course, it could also have something to do with the ethnic heritage of the gentleman from Holland: Syed Jafry. We can draw no sure conclusions about the heritage of the gentleman, but I can say this: after Sept. 11, 2001 - throughout the country and especially in my home state of Michigan - there were racially motivated attacks on people of middle eastern origin. Indeed (showing the ignorance of many people in my state and elsewhere), there were attacks on people who even just had "arabic appearance" - including people of latin, greek, and other heritages. It was horrible.

Maybe Mr. Jafry is just a white, Anglo-Saxon protestant with a really interesting name. Maybe Syed and Jafry are Dutch names, and I'm just guessing the etymology really wrong. But also, possibly, the gentleman from Holland, Michigan is a little afraid. Maybe by identifying with fortress America; aggressive-saving America; Jack's America; and the former Bush/Cheney America, he's hedging his bets. Maybe he was just scared enough that he felt, like many other people of foreign born descent, that he had to say something to make his allegiance known - in case we slipped back into that savage shade of patriotism again.

If this is just the start of a new series of confrontations with Al Qaeda, I guess we'll find out. With Obama in office, will it be a Ralph's America - or Jack's?

Ugh - my mom is calling.

*UPDATE: The guy from Pontiac speaks further. From AP: "Rich Griffith, a passenger from Pontiac, said he was seated too far in the back to see what had happened. But he said he didn't mind being detained on the plane for several hours. 'It's frustrating if you don't want to keep your country safe,' he said. 'We can't have what's going on everywhere else happening here.'" Pretty measured response from Ralph so far.

(Courtesy of www.freep.com).

Ahh...I'm home.

Well, I made it home - finally! Took 10 and a half hours, but I'm here. Turns out that storm did indeed hit. It was just more north than I thought (so it was a good thing I took that tour of the turnpike much more to the south). My hometown on the shore of Lake Michigan was completely covered in ice. My car sled down the road, and I practically skated in the front door of my parents house. Yep, I was a regular Michelle Kwan.

The family's traditional Christmas Eve party was long since over; I had missed it. Everyone had a great time, and I'm disappointed the trip so long. But my parents - bless them - were waiting up for me. My Mom gave me a big hug, some party leftovers (mmm...Swedish meatballs before bed), and I settled in. And even though it's only for a couple days, I get to be a kid at Christmas again. There will be home cooked food. There will be sleeping in. There will be cards and board games and Scrabble. I'll see my favorite aunt. There will be excessive TV watching. But the real signal that Christmas is here?

None other than a living room visit from my good buddy, Ralphy, from "A Christmas Story." I grew up watching him with my family, and when I wrangled the remote from my night-owl father, there he was. Twenty-four hours of him on TBS. I've seen the movie too many times; I even own it on DVD. But it's a tradition, nonetheless.

And so - with Ralphy in the background; with holiday food in my tummy; with my all family in a warm and safe house; and with a very white (and icy) Christmas out our front door - I sleep.

I'm very happy to be home.


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The Storm I kept south to avoid?

I'm not sure where this storm was that I stayed south to avoid. It's in the Midwest; I'm in Indiana - about as Midwest as you can get. Maybe it's a pretend storm. That, or a Christmas miracle!

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Welcome to the Indiana Toll Road!

Now this is a treat! To avoid freezing rain to the north, I have opted to remain on I-80/90 and then go north on US-31. I have not been on the Indiana Toll Road in years.

This is the first travel center I encountered. And yes, not only are we in "down home" territory, but were also in '70's flashback territory. First, the music entering was no less than the BeeGee's, and then John Denver. "Rock and roll fantasy." Hilarious.

McDonald's and a small chocolate shop dominate the scene here. So we've given up completely on healthy eating and are just moving into grease-and-sugar territory.

Also, the bathrooms - not so good. Lots of reading material on the wall - if I'd wasn't afraid of cholera and I'd had a pen, there would have been plenty of grammar to correct. And I was using the facilities and, for some reason, the toilets just flush on their own. I was at the sink washing my hands and kept thinking people were in the bathroom with me, and no one would come out. I got out of there quickly and got some McNuggets.

Clearly, either the toilets are broken or the travel centers in Indiana have phantoms in the bathrooms. And based on how many times those suckers flushed, those phantoms must have a serious case of the trots. Spooky.

Welcome to Indiana.


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The travel centers are getting...rough.

Just to be clear, I'm not a lurker of rest areas and travel centers. I drank a Mountain Dew, and it ran right through me. Maybe I should see a urologist? Lol.

So this travel center was pretty simple. It had a Hardee's, which if you've never had - don't. Hardee's, I'm convinced, is slang for Hardening...of the arteries. The Frisco burger is enough to clog a valve.

This travel center also had showers and a traveler's mart - which was full of schlock like small die-cast semi trucks and kitschy little figurines. There were also personalized license plates and trucker hats. I saw this through the window because the store was closed, but believe me...it would have been just the kind of store worth wandering through.

I'm feeling as if the kitsch/schlock factor in the travel centers is a sign we are entering "down home" territory. Stay tuned.

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My friend has a big basket

On my drive, I talked to my buddy Brian. We were talking about the Christmas spirit and such, and iit came out that Brian just loves to wrap presents and make personalized gift baskets. I didn't know of his talent, but apparently he's quite good at it. He knows how to make the curly bows with the scissors (although admits that more complicated bows are still beyond his skill).

If you could hear the pride and assertiveness in his voice. "Just give me a gift and I'll wrap the heck out of it," he said. I think this is how hunters feel about deer hunting season. For gift wrappers, Christmas is open season - leave no gift unwrapped and no bow un...bowed? No mercy.

And, of course, being a Pittsburgher - there's a Steelers gift in the basket. Had to butch it up a little.
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Oh, and one last thing...

The Middle Ridge travel center has Popeye's and a Hershey's Ice Cream shop. Though - again - it is clear that no cardiologist or dietitian was consulted in the making of this travel center, one could also enjoy French creole cooking and Pennsylvania chocolate ice cream! How cosmopolitan!
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The Middle Ridge Travel Center

Okay, so I could only go about an hour and a half before my back hurt. My old P.O.S is crowded for a tall gent such as myself, so I end up doing a lot of crouching in the drivers seat. This, along with seats made of cardboard, plastic, and felt, contribute to a searing lower back pain. Plus, I had to use the facilities. I downed that Starbucks to stay alert on the fast and furious Ohio Turnpike - and just as fast and furious was my sudden need to wiz. So, here I am at another travel center.

Each travel center is a little different. The last one had a big Starbucks, and this one has more of a coffee stand type. The last had McDonald's; this one has Burger King (cardiologists clearly did not have much say in the tenants of these centers). The last had an Au Bon Pain (a little French bakery chain for those of you not familiar); this has a Panera (an American bakery chain). No real difference there, though - both rape you for a half-sandwich and soup at 8.00$, with no drink. The only difference is that Au Bon has a French name, so it sounds classy to drop excessive dough there. I'm not sure what language Panera is from. Esperanto, perhaps?

I can say this about the Middle Ridge travel center. It is more international than the Portage center. They also have a Manchu Wok. So after a quick Seattle latte or American burger, you could get some General Tso's and a fortune cookie. The fortune inside?:

"Chinese food may not fill you up, but french bakery will cause empty wallet and sore bum. Your lucky number is 13."
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The Middle Ridge Travel Center

Okay, so I could only go about an hour and a half before my back hurt. My old P.O.S is crowded for a tall gent such as myself, so I end up doing a lot of crouching in the drivers seat. This, along with seats made of cardboard, plastic, and felt, contribute to a searing lower back pain. Plus, I had to use the facilities. I downed that Starbucks to stay alert on the fast and furious Ohio Turnpike - and just as fast and furious was my sudden need to wiz. So, here I am at another travel center.

Each travel center is a little different. The last one had a big Starbucks, and this one has more of a coffee stand type. The last had McDonald's; this one has Burger King (cardiologists clearly did not have much say in the tenants of these centers). The last had an Au Bon Pain (a little French bakery chain for those of you not familiar); this has a Panera )and American bakery chain). No real difference there, though - both rape you for a half-sandwich and soup at 8.00$, with no drink. The only difference is that Au Bon has a French name, so it sounds classy to drop excessive dough there. I'm not sure what language Panera is from. Esperanto, perhaps?

I can say this about the Middle Ridge travel center. It is more international than the Portage center. They also have a Manchu Wok. So after a quick Seattle latte or American burger, you could get some General Tso's and a fortune cookie. The fortune inside?:

"Chinese food may not fill you up, but french bakery will cause empty wallet and sore bum. Your lucky number is 13."
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The Ohio Turnpike Travel Center Workers

I love these little centers. I stop at them a lot on the way home; I even slept at a few during a driving tour of the northeast and Canada. Lots of stuff to do. I played Monopoly pinball for 10 minutes while I stretched. Plus I got a peppermint mocha from the 'Buck. Awesome.

I wonder what it's like to work at them though. It's like its own little world. For the people who work here, they must seem thousands of people each shift. How do they keep from going crazy?

The lady at the Starbucks gave me a white chocolate mocha instead of a regular one. I had to give it back (white chocolate is effin gross), and she made me a new one - no fuss involved. On Christmas Eve. With a line of weary travelers waiting. And only two of them working. Wow.

I can only assume that they must really enjoy their breaks to keep up such good spirits. Or they are drunk or high - which are both fine by me. My corrected 6.00$ mocha is delicious, delivered with a smile, and my back is stretched and ready for another two hours.

Thanks eerily happy travel center people. :) Merry Christmas to you.

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The Glove State

Well, let the great American holiday road trip begin! I'm on my way to Michigan for Christmas to see my family. I'm sure I'll have plenty to write about shortly, dear faithful yet non-existent readers.
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Amanda's Adult Juice Box

Were not sure, but this probably is NOT 100% juice. It's most likely wine. This is why Amanda was fired as a lunch lady; the kids LOVED her though.

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A More Vulgar America? An Article by Peggy Noonan

Maybe this is the type of thing I should include in my blog. This is an article by Peggy Noonan talking about what she describes as "The Adam Lambert Problem." Personally, I find most of what American Idol spins off to be a problem (except Kelly Clarkson - I love her).

Here's the link:
Peggy Noonan, Wall Street Journal, "The Adam Lambert Problem."


I like Peggy Noonan. Sometimes, every once in awhile, I find myself in Conservative territory and agreeing with some of them. Granted, not the crazies, but somewhat even handed Cons like Peggy. I like her writing a lot too. She's a classy gal (a nod to a friend).

Your thoughts? (As if you are actually there lol).

A Ready Audience for an Unready Blogger?

I still don't know what my blog should be about. I notice that a good number of people who have blogs talk about music, or news, or cooking, or something interesting. I don't really feel like I can talk about any of those things - I'm not really quite an expert on anything (well, at least anything I can blog about.) But even if I picked a topic, I'd have a problem. And it's this...

I noticed that a lot of blogs make assumptions about the audience they are writing to. As if, the audience KNOWS the blogger very well. They say things like "as we all now, I don't like poppy seeds.." or "as I've said all along, I think cutting it off was the best thing to do."

It's interesting, because I wonder whether or not the audience knows the blogger at all, let alone to the point of knowing their personal tastes and idiosyncrasies. Personally, I get a little suspicious and wonder whether or not anyone is reading their blog at all. What if they are like that crazy person at home who sits in the bathrobe at 3AM and talks to the people on QVC as if they are their personal friends? "Oh Suzanne, you vixen - you KNOW how much I love your jokes. You are just TOO much. Yes, I loved the Hummel figurines - you know how much I love those. Yes, I'll take two locket pendants in blue. So what are you doing for the holidays? I'm having a party if you don't have plans..."

Creepy.

I'm sure they have audiences though (at least, I hope they do...or it's weird.) I don't yet. I look at the comment boxes, and I see nothing. Nada. How sad. I also have no followers. I have no linked blogs. Kind of a bloggers desolate wasteland in here.

A friend of mine says I should write about myself in my blog, but I think I'm rather boring. More so, how can I write about myself when I have no one to write to? To whom can I say "As we all know, I really hate..." or "I've said this before but.." It's like I'm having a conversation with someone who isn't really there. And then that means, when writing about myself, it will have to be mostly declarative sentences. Or I'm going to look crazy.

I also can't really tell stories about myself, because I don't have anyone technically listening and responding. Also crazy-person behavior. So, pretty much, I'm writing out into the ether.

Or am I?

A couple weeks ago my Mom's computer went wonky on her. I don't really know that I believe her. I suspect that it was just fine and she just downloaded a virus or didn't know how to turn it on or something. My Mom is like that. I love my Mom, but sometimes she overreacts to things instead of just chilling out and looking to see, say, if the plug came out of the wall. Unlike us who investigate on the Internet first, she just panics and thinks she's either broken it or its defective.

(P.S. to the faux audience - while on the subject of parents and technology, remind me to talk about when my Mother learned how to TXT sometime.)

Apparently, though, she had the wherewithal to get on the phone with the representative from HP and get talked through various fixes to the problem. I guess as time went on, her technical skills started to lag those necessary to fix the problem. HP did that nifty remote-computer takeover, and started to snoop around her computer. Of course, my Mom had never seen this before - she was just astonished. Bless her.

While the HP representative (a nice gent from India) was snooping to fix the computer for a couple hours, he remained on the phone with my Mother. My Mother, being from another generation, didn't know that you're supposed to sit there in utter silence and contempt of the computer helpline people. Instead, she fell for the witty banter he is trained to say, such as "how is there weather there, Mrs. Bolton?" Asking a nice Michigan mom (in the middle of a Michigan winter) that question is just asking for TMI. Let the mudflow of information begin.

I'm not sure if all the HP Reps are this chatty or my Mom just cornered the poor guy. By the time the call was over, the HP rep and my Mom had talked about: his kids, her kids, each others plans for the Holidays, and how he is recently married. The guy even found a way to share PICTURES of his kids, over the computer somehow (this may be a whopper by my Mom). It even got to the point where the guy asked my Mom how long she and my Father have been married. "32 years," she responded. Says the HP Rep: "Do you have any advice for me?" To which, of course, my Mother had much advice to offer.

The Rep eventually found out it was a bad hard drive (I still don't believe - I'm sure she just had her sleep mode set to 2 seconds or something). They made arrangements to send the computer in for repair. I'm sure the phone call was supposed to end there, but considering the soulmate my Mother had found in the HP Rep in India, I'm sure the call lingered on a bit longer. Knowing my Mom, and considering she probably had never talked to anyone in India before (and may never again), she probably wanted the moment to last.

The moral of the story? Well, first, that my newbie Mother got more of a devoted Internet audience on a tech call to Hewlett-Packard than I have with a blog and nearly 20 years of being on the Net. Ugh.

It also means, I suppose, that just assuming that you do have an audience can work. The Hewlett Packard Rep did; he assumed someone like my Mom would respond to those computer-driven questions. (Little does HP know about my Mother - they may want to dial back the depth of even the most shallow questions a bit or their phone lines are going to burn up). I guess questions like "...and how is your family this evening?" work, even if one doesn't have a spouse or kids in the house.

My Mom also did, by assuming that the HP Rep would listen to a few things about her kids - and then her grandkids, marriage, and the weather - and fill in what he didn't know with his imagination. I don't know what the customs are in India, but she just assumed that her advice for her American marriage would apply to his new one. And apparently, somehow, it did.

The moral of the story is that I guess it's okay to assume an audience with technology in general. As long as I don't PRETEND I have an audience, which starts to work its way into crazy "Imaginary Friends and Magical Creatures" territory.

Besides, if the Internet is consuming everything - words, video, images, recordings - for all of time, then someday and at some point I will have an audience. I may be dead by that point, but my words will live on. To quote Humphrey Bogart from Casablanca (out of context), "Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

And if not, it just so happens I also own an HP, too.

Quote of the Day

"Now THAT is a man who has eaten a LOT of BEEF!" - South Park character
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Goal for this week

Pick something I believe in. Defend it. Do not back down while still keeping the peace.

Great. Why don't I just look for a unicorn while I'm at it. Pssht.
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Mail theft

So, I wonder who I call about postal mail theft. Its fairly obvious that our upstairs neighbors are stealing our mail. My roommate has lost checks and actual money. I am now missing a letter (from an envelope which looks like a check would be in it.)

I've never had worse neighbors. Ii really do want to leave a flaming bag of poo at their door. But we share a stairway...so I'd have to suffer as well. Damn.
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Dream and then today

I'm not sure where I got this from, but I had dream last night that I was living in a communist country with Stalin as a close friend and father like figure. Eventually I had to kill him, though, because we couldn't handle how authoritarian he was. Weird.

Still not sure what to write about on this blog. I spent about 30 minutes writing something about myself last night, but then I realized that I don't like being that self-indulgent. So that was fun. Maybe I'll find something to write about today when I'm out and about.

If I could own a Redbox...

I'd be a millionaire (or at least a thousandaire - but still an improvement).
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Welcome to my mobile blog! Now, the public can enjoy my thoughts. AS THEY HAPPEN!
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