I am a single girl living in St. Louis (so that’s brilliant… put it on the world wide interwebz that I live alone, want my address too?)  who for some reason, quite often finds herself all mixed up in enthralling albeit awkward situations with her neighbors, friends and the homeless men who leave bottles of lukewarm pee in her backyard.

Weird things happen to me. Let me put it this way, if nine out of ten of us were on our way to the same church on Sunday morning, I’m going to be the one who runs into the guy who thinks(and dresses like) he’s Jesus standing on the corner between Steak and Shake and Wal-greens. And one of these days I’m going to stop and ask him what his deal is.

I will be the first to tell you that I am socially inept. I love to talk but if I’m in a discussion group and I have an idea, I will open my mouth and something similar to the language of Babel will cascade out of my mouth (and with my luck, probably leave a stain on my shirt) while everyone stands, mouth agape, trying to make sense of what I just said.. So, hence, I write, saving us all from those “I-don’t-know-where-to-look” moments. 

My life is full of interesting people. I have enough material about the Village that lives above me to write an entire thesis. Add in the walks I take with my eight pound, four year old shih-tzu Yadier Pujols Murphy, my treks out into the “real world”, my slight OCD behavior, and the you-know-you-were-thinking-the-same-thing trains of thought and you have the rudimentary elements of my blog.

And while I may change some names or scrunch some conversations together so you don’t have to read the “ums” or “yeahs” and the “don’t let me forget to tell you somethings,” everything that I write is true, as seen through my wide-open always-amused eyes.

I also promised my family that I wouldn’t air any dirty laundry…for now…I’m not making any promises about our Christmas get together…No one is safe at Christmas.


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