So nothing exciting at all happened today. I thought I would instead share a story of childhood trauma so that everyone could have a good laugh at my expense.

Remember when Michael Jackson was way cool? You know, before he started looking like an alien - back in the days when his videos consisted of him dancing by himself in some sequined ensemble with falshing lights all around? I thought he was wonderful. I wanted nothing more in my life than to be like him.

Among the multitude of places I lived growing up, which includes such classy towns as Goshen, Ohio and Ozark, Alabama, was a little suburb of Louisvile. We lived there while my dad was getting his Master's of Divinity at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (I would make some comment here about this being another factor in my multitude of issues, but I think it's pretty self-explanatory), and we were really lucky because we got this really nice apartment that I think was some sort of married student with family housing deal or some such. Our "apartment" was more like a gigantic house (at least I remember it to be gigantic; of course I was rather young and small when we lived there) with this huge, beautiful tree in the front yard. One afternoon, my aunt, who was staying with us for a while, was babysitting me while my mom went to work and my dad went to school. I think she must've been inside when this happened, but I was outside playing with my friends. I thought I would be the envy of everyone if I could demonstrate that I was as good of a dancer, if not better, than Michael Jackson. Well, remember that move he did where he would jump off of something high and slide on his knees? Yeah, he must've been wearing some protective gear or some such, because I jumped off the front porch, all ready to slide across the lawn and wow my friends. Instead, my knee hit a tree root. Hard.

My poor aunt couldn't have been more than 14 at the time, cause I was, maybe, 4, and she started screaming, not knowing what to do. She couldn't drive me to the hospital, but I had hit my knee so hard that you could see the bone. All I remember about that day is her screaming and me thinking it was really cool that I could see what was under my skin.

I still have a scar.

Moral of the story: no matter who you are, you will never be really cool jumping off of anything and trying to slide on your knees. Unless you have greased up your body and the floor, you won't go anywhere. Also, do not imitate people who are famous. 15 years later you will look back and think about what an idiot you are.

My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23