Excitement!!!

Ok, so things are going more slowly than they should be. But that's how things go for me, because I'm not too swift when it comes to computers and I'm learning, learning, learning! I have a lovely friend with her own blog who's helping me out, and as I get things put up, I'll link you to her. She's a hoot! I think you might even get to see her boob. Sorta.

Anyway, I more or less had to start over once I realized that I'd hopelessly screwed up the template on here. TYPICAL. But things are back in action. As the days go on, I'll get more information posted, and with any luck, actually have something OF VALUE to give to people with PBD, and those who just want some info. I'll share some books I've read that have been of particular importance to me in this ride, and as time goes on, I'll get more comfortable with the whole blog mentality and even let you 'inside' and you can root around in my head and see what it's really like inside the mind of a "beeper" (person with BPD).

I think I'm the only person in North America who hates Hallowe'en. I have two small dogs. One of them thinks it's his God-given duty to bark for approximately 3 minutes each and EVERY time the doorbell rings. We had an estimated 80 children come to our home, in a total of about 20 groups. What this means for ME is, the doorbell rang around 20 times, and each time the dog barked for 3 minutes, I hollered for him to shut up which did exactly what it always does (nothing), then I pasted a fake smile on my face and looked at the cute little children who stuck out their bags and were turned away before I even got the goodies into the sacks....and all in all listened to the shrill barking of a guilty-looking beast for a solid 60 minutes, divided over two and a half hours.

SHOOT ME NOW

And by the way, if your child has to shave before he goes Trick or Treating, tell him not to come to my house.

If she's booking off work so she can go door-to-door, tell her not to come to my house.

If your kid is DRIVING from house to house.....dear gawd, just go to the store and buy a couple of chocolate bars.

If your kid wants a Miller Lite to wash it all down at the end of the night...and can actually purchase it...tell him not to come to my house.

If your child notices my eaves need work while he's ringing my bell, and hands me his card while I'm giving him a mini-snickers...tell him not to come to my house.

If your daughter is checking out my son, who's handing out candy at my door...oh gawd, don't come to my house....