Hi there. I am a person who checks things out; no, not for safety purposes or legitimacy, I mean if someone mentions something I will be curious enough to push the button or open the door or, in web times such as these, click over to a site. Now, this is not an entirely horrible thing because on news sites, I have learned a lot about related stuff – stuff worth sticking away in my mind for the heck of just knowing it. And on some personal sites, I have found tremendously strong people who tell their stories intelligently and sensitively – people such as Sarah Bickle, Thomas’ mother. I still keep the light for Thomas in my window – changed the bulb just last week.

However, there are times when I wind up someplace where someone is spilling their guts about their family intrigues. And my eyes zoom along the page. Zoom! Or I will find a reference to bloggers feuding and glance in, watching the ping pong ball go back and forth.  Here’s a good one: I always found myself annoyed when people used the phrase “her/his private” to refer to a body part. Do you know I saw a reference to a place called Attack of the Redneck Mommy and went to take a quick look . . . and found a detailed description on how she dyed her pubic hair blue? Okay, that’s private.

Why am I writing about this? I don’t know. I do know. It’s kind of like Mt. Everest . . . You know, it’s there.