What if I told you not to tell??? You'd probably do one of three things: number one, and most unlikely, you'd keep my secret and not tell a soul. Two, you'd tell that one close friend (or a couple close friends) who you think wouldn't tell and you'd tell them not to tell, but invariably they would. Or Three, you'd tell everyone because let's face it gossip and spreading rumors is a fun thing to do.

So what if I told you this is all true? Or mostly true? Or only a little sliver of truth is in here and the rest is lies? Would you still read? Would you tell? What if I said that all this is true and I only pretend it's not because it makes for a better story to pretend it never happened? Or what if I tell you it's true and it's really not, would you really believe it?

In either case, this is blog is full of my secrets and whether or not you share them is up to you, but you can't steal them because everything is safe on the internet. And Everyone always believes what they read, so it must all be true. Wait... maybe I'm wrong about this last little bit.

Whatever... It's a secret. Don't tell.

Little men in my head

Is it weird that I imagine little people in my head? Is it worse that they all stereotype various races or is it good that I'm that multicultural? BTW I'm kind of serious but I've always imagined it in a funny, politically incorrect way, not meant as mean!!!

Ok, so I'm a tad weird. I enjoy imagining little men and women running around my head, commanding certain groups of workers. The thing is all of these "people" are stereotypes. Like I have (my ancestors) the Native Americans in loin cloths and playing casino games and selling cheap cigarettes that taste like dirt to white people. It explains my love of playing the slots and my unrelenting Sleep Naked need and my nicotine fits. There is the Mexican who jumps around a sombrero when I'm happy. He does what I like to call the Mexican Happy Dance. Some of my friends even comment on him on occassion. No I'm not making this up. They knew me during my ... fun-carefree ... days. There is the chinese guy I imagine whenever I go to buy something at a market. One dolla, two dolla, free dollar. Yes, yes, very wrong of me. There's also the French doctor who is very snobby but is a total wine buff and encourages that extra glass when I drink. He and I have had words... I don't really like wine-overs but once in a while Dr. Snobby Frenchpants (that's his name) wins the argument for another glass. There's also the Canadian in me, who loves Hockey, thinks that it's funny that most people can't drive in the snow and likes to get a little "green tea" now and then. While we both get our hockey fixes and occasionally get to watch a nice snow-caused car accident (with no fatalities, because he's canadian and people dying isn't cool.) I don't get to "drink green tea" anymore, what a shame. And yes, once upon a time, I indulged in green tea. There's also the American Texan, who encourages riding horses, watching football, partying in the barns and pastures, the boots.. Ok, I love the Texan part of me :) I also love my Jersey girl. She's emotional, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, and extremely loving yet a demon when she's pissed. Yea, so what? 


But I do imagine these people in my head and each one of them celebrates or entertain me when I'm bored. Even a few of my friends know the creatures I imagine. They might think I'm crazy but they are thoroughly entertained too.

And I know all this is odd, but every once in a while... I have odd thoughts. Sue me
Leah is: at

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