I have a warm, gooey center.

This is me now, with 2 of my 3 favorite men ever....Mini A, in the chair, and Little A in my lap.
This photo shows me, (with my finger in my mouth) in high school at a drama competition
with my good friend, Mindy, circa 1999.


I spent the better part of this day working in my lab "rocking" out to my very favorite tunes. Pandora makes me happy. I have the MOSTPERFECTPLAYLISTEVER...it consists of a quickmix of my The Fray/Kelly Clarkson/David Cook/Glen Hansard/Debussy/Sugarland....so, basically, a schizophrenic mix of songs to put on your favorite wife-beater, call an ex-boyfriend and tell him he sucks, then kill yourself to after your dog drinks your last good Merlot. I'm quirky. Deal with it.

I only realized that my musical leanings might be revealing too much about me when my lab mate, Audrey turned to me and said something like, "You're just a big softie, aren't you?" And I said, "Hunh??!?" and then turned down the music. She repeated, "You're just a big softie, all this music." or something like that. I think I may have blushed. I can't be sure.

Because, folks, I pride myself on being kind of badass. I am the chick with things in control. I have kids who eat vegetables. I keep my car and house clean even with a 3 year old and an infant doing their best to destroy them. I have a perfect husband. I do involved and precise research. I write. I often forget to brush my hair and/or teeth...but whatever. I'm AWESOMELY! (in my head) in control and I take no prisoners. I am scary and mean and tough and no one breaks me.

So, for the cutesy adorable Audrey to accuse me, ME! of being a softie? I must be losing my edge.

And then I had a look at myself in the bathroom mirror after lunch.

Jeans, flip flops, white T-shirt, heather gray short sleeved sweater, scarf, braided hair, no makeup, bags under the eyes, bad skin, men's watch, splash of perfume...wait, what???

I was emo before emo was cool (not that it is ACTUALLY cool). I wore all black and wrote in leather journals with quill tipped pens. I was accused (by teachers, even) of practicing witchcraft in high school. I was teased. I was ostracized. I was fringe. I was absolutely miserable. And I have forgotten what it is to be absolutely miserable. Thank God.

I'm happy. So I've lost my edge. I've got time in my brain to think about things like a national health plan and whether or not Obama is going to be the President I hoped/voted for. I have time to care and think about my family and how they're doing and even to admit that I miss them. I have time to care about whether my family is going to be okay through the flu season and whether I'll actually ever get a job doing what I love and being well-compensated. I have time to consider my husband and his fine ass and whether or not I am making him happy. Happiness...it's a double edged sword.

So, I care about you. I care if you read this. I want to take away your pain and make the world a better place. I want to make everyone around me happy. I love my kids and my husband and my family and my friends and I even love those people who hate me and have since I rocked the emo. And do you know what? It feels right. It feels good to know that I'm still growing and not just sitting in my cynical, superior corner, sipping wine and talking about what a stupid, fruitless world this is and how much people suck.

People DO suck. I am annoyed by the whole lot of you, sometimes. I cannot understand greed and intentionally inflicting pain. I am baffled by WHY people can't share their wealth with the homeless and the indigent. I am confused by why people believe anything they're told and don't seek out information. Why my generation considers it perfectly valid because WIKIPEDIA said so. In fact, it makes me IRATE to think about my peers, sometimes. But I still love them. I still love you! I want to make you grow and show you how different the world might be if everyone found it in themselves to give just a little shit.

I was told once that I had to take care of myself first and that the older I got, the more I'd realize that I had to look out for "number one" and tell everyone else to "go to hell". Well, I'm 27, almost 28 years old. I have three gorgeous men to care for. I am a grown up. And I STILL choose to try and help others. And while it is sometimes practical to ensure my and their safety first. I will NEVER intentionally put my own comfort over another person's. Ever. I find humanity to be cruel and unforgiving but also merciful and fearless and I want so desperately to contribute something worthwhile to them. To you!

And that's why my music is schizophrenic. It reminds me of where I was, who I am, and who I hope to be. I like being gooey. I suspect I may also be sweet. So suck on that!