So, anyone who knows me will laugh at the fact that I’m blogging right now. I’m very open about the fact that I’m convinced the AntiChrist will be a robot of some sort. I think technology is taking over the world, and I’m afraid that my child will become a Cyborg. With that being said, I realize the hypocrisy in this site. However, seeing as how no one knows how to read print anymore, I figured I might as well sell my soul and succomb to the technology gods, so that someone will read it.

I write because I’m a self-proclaimed clutz, and events happen to me all the time that make me think I actually live in a sitcom. Growing up, I used to think there were hidden cameras all around me and that I actually was on t.v. somewhere (this was indeed before I read 1984 or saw The Truman Show). Anyway, while I don’t know that Big Brother is following me, I find that my life plays out as if it were on t.v.

Specifically, my cooking experiences play out like vignettes of the “I Love Lucy” show, and it began when I got married nearly four years ago. Since then, I have burnt and dropped food, ignited my kitchen, and sustained various injuries all over my body from items I have dropped or flung on myself. The fact that I am a Pampered Chef consultant remains a mystery to both my husband and myself, and I’m simply waiting for someone to tell me to stop before I actually kill myself from cooking.

So- if you can’t cook or lack a tv and would like the enjoyment of a sitcom, read on, and enjoy the farce my life has become. You may find a few other surprise topics tucked in here and there…

Enjoy.