The dedicated blog readers who have been with me from the beginning (February/March 2010), or who have read back that far*, will recall True Colors, the absolutely fantastic conference for lgbtq(etc, etc, etc**) folks.
If you haven't, and don't feel like going back to look it up, or I haven't been non-stop yakking to you about it already, here's a refresher.
3,000 lgbtq youth and the people who support us, rainbows, laughter, friendship, entertainment, all packed into two full days of workshops, keynotes and even a dance.
This year will be my first time presenting, but my fourth time at the conference overall.
Being in a place full of such acceptance and unconditional love is such a heartwarming feeling. Not to say that I don't have that at home, which I do, most certainly. Spending a weekend with 3,000 people who are all so wonderful is simply energizing.
Four years ago, I went to the conference as a 14 year old, straight ally daughter of lesbian moms.
This year, I will be going as a 18 year old, third generation queer*** presenter.
I've grown and learned a lot about myself, and I'm beyond happy with both who I am, and where I'm going.
It's not only the anniversary of going to TC, but it's also the anniversary of this blog. (In my mind, the February 2010 posts don't /really/ count. Even though they do.)
I'd like to thank each and every one of you. You've let me into your lives, and I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed getting to know you all. Each comment, each follower and every one of you who attempted/are attempting to do BOW'11 with me mean so much.
Thank you all so very much, and let's go onto another year!
One more thing:
Bring on the rainbows, and let me dance in the glitter.
~Whimsy
* Or those who speak to me regularly on Skype or another social network.
**Forgive me for using the short string of letters, please. I'm not writing out the whole QUILTBAGPIPE initialisim every time, but I'm doing it in my head, believe me.
***My grandad, my mum and now myself are all queer. ^___^
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Week Ten: I'm teaching Hermione.
Really quick, to catch you up on my life: I'm teaching three classes. A Hogwarts class, and two theatre classes. The kids range from 6 to 12 years old, and every single one of them is ADORABLE.
I'm going to focus on the Hogwarts kids, because I find them (possibly) the most hilarious and the most fun to teach.
We've got three Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs and three Slytherins. Mum, my sister and I have each taken a table to take care of. My sister got the 'Puffs, because she is one, and I was ever-so-happy to get my table of Slytherins.
As one might expect, all the kids are behaving RIGHT in line with the house traits.
We have the Hufflepuffs. Quiet, the sweetest kids in the class, very happy all the time, artistic, the whole deal.
Then there's the Ravenclaws. These are the kids who are counting up the abitrarily awarded house points and who perk up as soon as you say the word "trivia".
And over at the end of the room, there's the Slytherins. We're easily the most rowdy table, and two out of my three kids are totally convinced that we're all going to become Death Eaters.
How much to I love teaching this class? So. Very. Much.
So far, we're made wands and filled them all with unique cores, sorted them all into houses, made house badges and even created trunks to keep all their Hogwarts things in. I want to take my own class. Seriously.
We have one little girl who is Hermione, %110. She visibly crumbles when she can't think of the trivia answer, and she's quite literal.
Examples as follows.
Hermione: Are you trying to be Tonks? Your hair is green, not pink.
Me: I dyed my hair pink at first, so I could be Tonks, but now I have it green because I like it better.
Me: *sets out bowl of "mandrake root" to fill wands with*
Hermione: "That's cork pieces."
Me: "No, it's mandrake root."
Hermione: *eyes suspiciously*
She's the cutest thing ever.
Teaching is really wonderful, working with all these young kids. I can honestly say that I love what I do for a living.
I hope you all have the same feeling.
~Whimsy
I'm going to focus on the Hogwarts kids, because I find them (possibly) the most hilarious and the most fun to teach.
We've got three Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs and three Slytherins. Mum, my sister and I have each taken a table to take care of. My sister got the 'Puffs, because she is one, and I was ever-so-happy to get my table of Slytherins.
As one might expect, all the kids are behaving RIGHT in line with the house traits.
We have the Hufflepuffs. Quiet, the sweetest kids in the class, very happy all the time, artistic, the whole deal.
Then there's the Ravenclaws. These are the kids who are counting up the abitrarily awarded house points and who perk up as soon as you say the word "trivia".
And over at the end of the room, there's the Slytherins. We're easily the most rowdy table, and two out of my three kids are totally convinced that we're all going to become Death Eaters.
How much to I love teaching this class? So. Very. Much.
So far, we're made wands and filled them all with unique cores, sorted them all into houses, made house badges and even created trunks to keep all their Hogwarts things in. I want to take my own class. Seriously.
We have one little girl who is Hermione, %110. She visibly crumbles when she can't think of the trivia answer, and she's quite literal.
Examples as follows.
Hermione: Are you trying to be Tonks? Your hair is green, not pink.
Me: I dyed my hair pink at first, so I could be Tonks, but now I have it green because I like it better.
Me: *sets out bowl of "mandrake root" to fill wands with*
Hermione: "That's cork pieces."
Me: "No, it's mandrake root."
Hermione: *eyes suspiciously*
She's the cutest thing ever.
Teaching is really wonderful, working with all these young kids. I can honestly say that I love what I do for a living.
I hope you all have the same feeling.
~Whimsy
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Week Nine: You are a Brit from the 1800's.
Salutations, my good friends.
At the beginning of this year, when I took on this mad commitment of writing one blog post a week for an entire year, I knew in the back of my head that it would become steadily more difficult to get in the time required to hammer out a proper post. However, I had foolishly thought that I'd be getting posts up on the Wednesday of the week, not hours from my self-imposed deadline of Sunday night. Oh, how very naive I was.
So here I doth sit, on a Friday night*, getting my post done for Sunday.
"Why Whimsy," you might say, "you're ahead of the game this week! Don't despair."**
Forsooth, but you are wrong. So very, very wrong.
You see, tomorrow I'm having my family over to celebrate my Aunt's birthday. She died when I was three years old, but we get together to remember her. There will be brownies, her favorite dessert.
Then, I'll be going to bed stupidly early (think 10pm***).
"Goodness, Whimsy." you say, clasping your hand to your brow, "Why such a dreadfully early bedtime?"****
Thank you for asking, my friend-who-I-just-made-up-for-the-purpose-of-asking-questions. I'll be getting up INSANELY EARLY on Sunday morning so I can work a SEVENTEEN HOUR DAY at a local theatre. They're hosting a touring production of The Color Purple, and I (along with my family) will be helping load in, do costumes, help during the show, and load out. The day starts at 7am, (a time that in Whimsyville just does NOT happen to exist) and we finish the day at midnight. Yep, long day.
Anyway, that's all I have for you this week, but rest assured, I have LOADS of news for next week. Suffice it to say that the classes that my family is teaching started this past Tuesday, and there is much hilarity to share concerning small children and the things they do.
Excitedly yours,
Whimsy
*I started this Friday night, but a combination of cataclysmic events (not really, just being busy) caused me to finish and post this on Saturday morning.
**Nobody I know talks like this, but they SHOULD.
***Since my usual bedtime is somewhere between 12 and 3am, this is the same as a massive culture shock.
****Because this is my blog, I shall write my fictional conversations with you as if you are a Brit from the 1800's.
At the beginning of this year, when I took on this mad commitment of writing one blog post a week for an entire year, I knew in the back of my head that it would become steadily more difficult to get in the time required to hammer out a proper post. However, I had foolishly thought that I'd be getting posts up on the Wednesday of the week, not hours from my self-imposed deadline of Sunday night. Oh, how very naive I was.
So here I doth sit, on a Friday night*, getting my post done for Sunday.
"Why Whimsy," you might say, "you're ahead of the game this week! Don't despair."**
Forsooth, but you are wrong. So very, very wrong.
You see, tomorrow I'm having my family over to celebrate my Aunt's birthday. She died when I was three years old, but we get together to remember her. There will be brownies, her favorite dessert.
Then, I'll be going to bed stupidly early (think 10pm***).
"Goodness, Whimsy." you say, clasping your hand to your brow, "Why such a dreadfully early bedtime?"****
Thank you for asking, my friend-who-I-just-made-up-for-the-purpose-of-asking-questions. I'll be getting up INSANELY EARLY on Sunday morning so I can work a SEVENTEEN HOUR DAY at a local theatre. They're hosting a touring production of The Color Purple, and I (along with my family) will be helping load in, do costumes, help during the show, and load out. The day starts at 7am, (a time that in Whimsyville just does NOT happen to exist) and we finish the day at midnight. Yep, long day.
Anyway, that's all I have for you this week, but rest assured, I have LOADS of news for next week. Suffice it to say that the classes that my family is teaching started this past Tuesday, and there is much hilarity to share concerning small children and the things they do.
Excitedly yours,
Whimsy
*I started this Friday night, but a combination of cataclysmic events (not really, just being busy) caused me to finish and post this on Saturday morning.
**Nobody I know talks like this, but they SHOULD.
***Since my usual bedtime is somewhere between 12 and 3am, this is the same as a massive culture shock.
****Because this is my blog, I shall write my fictional conversations with you as if you are a Brit from the 1800's.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Week Eight: "Grown Up"
I hope I never grow up.
I don't mean that in the Peter Pan-Neverland sort of way, or the horribly morbid I-Shall-Die-Before-I-Grow-Old way, or even the I-Refuse-To-Take-Responsibility-For-Anything-Therefore-Remaining-Childlike-Forever kind of way.
What I mean is this. Children blow on dandelions and watch the seeds scatter, not worried about weeds marring their pristine lawns. Children ask questions because they are interested in finding out "how come"?
I want to always...look for the rainbow in the garden hose off-spray.
...blow dandelions and watch the seeds fall where they may.
...hang over the edge of the tree house and pretend I can fly.
...dance like a madman to 80's music.
...wonder what the world would be like with purple clouds.
...do cartwheels, regardless of my talents.
...get excited about small things like grape jelly.
...look for heart shaped rocks at the beach.
...believe in fairies and magic.
That, to me is the definition of "grown-up". In addition, saying that you're "grown-up" seems to me to be saying that you can't grow anymore. To me, growing is a process that I never want to stop. If you can't grow anymore, then you're stuck in a state of stasis.
I want to grow, but I never want to be grown.
~Whimsy
P.S. Why has this struck me now? This coming Tuesday, I start my second session of classes as a teacher at a local homeschool co-op. This time, instead of working with teens, I'm going to be working with littler ones, ages 6-12. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I love that age range. ^___^
P.P.S. Am also building props for a local theater, and working tech-whatnot at another theatre this coming Sunday.
P.P.P.S I'm feeling like my life is very exciting right now.
I don't mean that in the Peter Pan-Neverland sort of way, or the horribly morbid I-Shall-Die-Before-I-Grow-Old way, or even the I-Refuse-To-Take-Responsibility-For-Anything-Therefore-Remaining-Childlike-Forever kind of way.
What I mean is this. Children blow on dandelions and watch the seeds scatter, not worried about weeds marring their pristine lawns. Children ask questions because they are interested in finding out "how come"?
I want to always...look for the rainbow in the garden hose off-spray.
...blow dandelions and watch the seeds fall where they may.
...hang over the edge of the tree house and pretend I can fly.
...dance like a madman to 80's music.
...wonder what the world would be like with purple clouds.
...do cartwheels, regardless of my talents.
...get excited about small things like grape jelly.
...look for heart shaped rocks at the beach.
...believe in fairies and magic.
That, to me is the definition of "grown-up". In addition, saying that you're "grown-up" seems to me to be saying that you can't grow anymore. To me, growing is a process that I never want to stop. If you can't grow anymore, then you're stuck in a state of stasis.
I want to grow, but I never want to be grown.
~Whimsy
P.S. Why has this struck me now? This coming Tuesday, I start my second session of classes as a teacher at a local homeschool co-op. This time, instead of working with teens, I'm going to be working with littler ones, ages 6-12. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I love that age range. ^___^
P.P.S. Am also building props for a local theater, and working tech-whatnot at another theatre this coming Sunday.
P.P.P.S I'm feeling like my life is very exciting right now.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Week Seven: A Journey
It was my seventeenth birthday. We had finished my birthday dinner, and had moved on to dessert, cheesecake.
My family came over to celebrate. Now, in this case (the broader use of the word) family meant my mom, Nay, Nessa, my dad, my grandma and pepe (maternal grandparents) my Aunt who was also my GoddessMother (not a biological aunt, but still an aunt nonetheless), and my GoddessFather and his partner. I was opening my birthday presents (books, wizard rock CD's, books, band t-shirts, books...) when my GoddessFather went out to his car and brought in his present. I had to shut my eyes as he brought it in, since it wasn't wrapped, but when I was told that I could open, there was a guitar sitting in front of me.
Let it be known, at this time, I didn't know one chord from another, I couldn't hold it correctly, I wasn't musically inclined, or even taking lessons.
But I had a guitar, and that was AWESOME.
That was April.
What happened next came naturally. I taught myself three chords and began to haltingly play a few easy songs. After playing more or less regularly for a few months, I got frustrated with not knowing how to play anything. All the songs I could play weren't what I wanted to play, and the songs that I actually wanted were far, far too hard for me.
So I wrote a song using the only chords I knew, in September.
That song is "It's Raining, Annie", a tribute to Banned Book Week and the book Annie On My Mind*.
I kept at playing, always referring back to a birthday note I'd gotten from one of my favorite bands which said "Learning a new instrument is hard. Just keep at it, and you'll be good in no time. Music is the best outlet, rockin' pwns!". Whenever I felt like I was floundering, I looked at it and pressed down a few more chords.
One day, I played until my fingers were so sore, I could barely type. It never got to the point where my fingers actually bled, like in the song "summer of '69" that I love so dearly, but they hurt.
I received my guitar almost two years ago. I didn't realize at that time that it would change my life, but it has.
Over the past two years, I've gone from having practically no confidence in my own musicality to really believing that I have the talent to not only sing, but play and write my own music.
This isn't to say that I'm just sitting here blowing my own horn, but more of just a look back and see how far I've come. I think it's a good idea to sit back sometimes, and just look at the past. Even though I've learned so much, I've still got so much more to go.
That's a pretty important metaphor for life in general, I think. No matter how much we learn, there's always something new. I'm not saying that you can't be happy with where you are, believe me, but just that there will be something new to discover...forever. And that is an AMAZING, wonderful thing.
~Whimsy
P.S. I wrote a new song, and I'm really proud of it. You can all go listen to it HERE. I wrote it for YOU ALL. ^__^
*In case you don't know, Annie On My Mind is a phenomenal lgbtq(etc) YA book.
My family came over to celebrate. Now, in this case (the broader use of the word) family meant my mom, Nay, Nessa, my dad, my grandma and pepe (maternal grandparents) my Aunt who was also my GoddessMother (not a biological aunt, but still an aunt nonetheless), and my GoddessFather and his partner. I was opening my birthday presents (books, wizard rock CD's, books, band t-shirts, books...) when my GoddessFather went out to his car and brought in his present. I had to shut my eyes as he brought it in, since it wasn't wrapped, but when I was told that I could open, there was a guitar sitting in front of me.
Let it be known, at this time, I didn't know one chord from another, I couldn't hold it correctly, I wasn't musically inclined, or even taking lessons.
But I had a guitar, and that was AWESOME.
That was April.
What happened next came naturally. I taught myself three chords and began to haltingly play a few easy songs. After playing more or less regularly for a few months, I got frustrated with not knowing how to play anything. All the songs I could play weren't what I wanted to play, and the songs that I actually wanted were far, far too hard for me.
So I wrote a song using the only chords I knew, in September.
That song is "It's Raining, Annie", a tribute to Banned Book Week and the book Annie On My Mind*.
I kept at playing, always referring back to a birthday note I'd gotten from one of my favorite bands which said "Learning a new instrument is hard. Just keep at it, and you'll be good in no time. Music is the best outlet, rockin' pwns!". Whenever I felt like I was floundering, I looked at it and pressed down a few more chords.
One day, I played until my fingers were so sore, I could barely type. It never got to the point where my fingers actually bled, like in the song "summer of '69" that I love so dearly, but they hurt.
I received my guitar almost two years ago. I didn't realize at that time that it would change my life, but it has.
Over the past two years, I've gone from having practically no confidence in my own musicality to really believing that I have the talent to not only sing, but play and write my own music.
This isn't to say that I'm just sitting here blowing my own horn, but more of just a look back and see how far I've come. I think it's a good idea to sit back sometimes, and just look at the past. Even though I've learned so much, I've still got so much more to go.
That's a pretty important metaphor for life in general, I think. No matter how much we learn, there's always something new. I'm not saying that you can't be happy with where you are, believe me, but just that there will be something new to discover...forever. And that is an AMAZING, wonderful thing.
~Whimsy
P.S. I wrote a new song, and I'm really proud of it. You can all go listen to it HERE. I wrote it for YOU ALL. ^__^
*In case you don't know, Annie On My Mind is a phenomenal lgbtq(etc) YA book.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Week Six: The Inner Workings Of Whimsy's Brain
As some of you may know, I take ASL* lessons with my sister. This past Sunday (Did I mention that the lessons are Sunday nights?) as we were talking/practicing/learning/talking about Doctor Who in sign, we got to talking about Jung personality types**, and out tutor sent us a link to go take the test ourselves.
Anyhow, long story short, I've been strongarming all my friends, family and cohorts*** into joining in and taking the test and sharing their results with me.
As it turns out, I am an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving) type. At some points, the blurb got me SPOT ON, like here:
and here:
and here:
but like most things, it's not a perfect fit. Like where it talks about ISFP's being "Flexible and laid back", and "most have a special affinity with babies...", it's not quite right. Nonetheless, if you want to read all about the supposed inner workings of my brain (which honestly is more accurate than not, or so I think), you can do so HERE.
Which brings me to what I really wanted to do with this blog post. Go HERE, take the test (yes it's long, but it's oh-so-interesting) and leave a comment with your type!
Part two!
CEU's.
For those who don't know, CEU's are Continuing Education Credits. My library has this program where you can sign up and take all these classes online in ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS. I'm thinking that I might end up doing that, so that's going to be fun!
In other news...My roof is leaking! HOORAY! Yes, indeed. With all the snow we've gotten (up here in the Northeast USA) my house is now leaking. It's been a crazy few days, trying to keep up with all the dripping and bucket-changing and wet-towel-drying, but I think we've got it under control...fingers crossed, eh?
I have a kinda-sorta-plan for next week's blog, so keep an eye out for that!
Off to create madness,
Whimsy
P.S. Just as I finished writing this, the dog sneezed so hard, she smacked her face into the floor. Poor baby.
*American Sign Language for those who don't know.
**Yes, it's hard to talk about this all in ASL, that's where finger-spelling and actually TALKING OUT LOUD comes into play. O__O
***I just wanted to use the word...I'll admit it.
Anyhow, long story short, I've been strongarming all my friends, family and cohorts*** into joining in and taking the test and sharing their results with me.
As it turns out, I am an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving) type. At some points, the blurb got me SPOT ON, like here:
ISFPs tend to be quiet and reserved, and difficult to get to know well. They hold back their ideas and opinions except from those who they are closest to. They are likely to be kind, gentle and sensitive in their dealings with others.
and here:
ISFPs celebrate their own uniqueness, as well as everybody else's, and don't appreciate being judged harshly for their differences.
and here:
ISFPs are able to get along with most of the other personality types, although they tend to be reserved around those they don't know well. They will enjoy spending time with others who share their interests, and who understand and accept the ISFP for who they are. They greatly value their space and autonomy, and appreciate other's respect for that.
but like most things, it's not a perfect fit. Like where it talks about ISFP's being "Flexible and laid back", and "most have a special affinity with babies...", it's not quite right. Nonetheless, if you want to read all about the supposed inner workings of my brain (which honestly is more accurate than not, or so I think), you can do so HERE.
Which brings me to what I really wanted to do with this blog post. Go HERE, take the test (yes it's long, but it's oh-so-interesting) and leave a comment with your type!
Part two!
CEU's.
For those who don't know, CEU's are Continuing Education Credits. My library has this program where you can sign up and take all these classes online in ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS. I'm thinking that I might end up doing that, so that's going to be fun!
In other news...My roof is leaking! HOORAY! Yes, indeed. With all the snow we've gotten (up here in the Northeast USA) my house is now leaking. It's been a crazy few days, trying to keep up with all the dripping and bucket-changing and wet-towel-drying, but I think we've got it under control...fingers crossed, eh?
I have a kinda-sorta-plan for next week's blog, so keep an eye out for that!
Off to create madness,
Whimsy
P.S. Just as I finished writing this, the dog sneezed so hard, she smacked her face into the floor. Poor baby.
*American Sign Language for those who don't know.
**Yes, it's hard to talk about this all in ASL, that's where finger-spelling and actually TALKING OUT LOUD comes into play. O__O
***I just wanted to use the word...I'll admit it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Week Five: Big Exciting News!
Last week, I alluded to Big Exciting News. Well, my friends, I have confirmation on ONE of them.
Very, very longtime blog readers of mine* (we're talkin' March 2010, here) will recall my talking about True Colors. For those of you who don't want to go searching through pages upon pages of blog entries, or are just too lazy to read another article (linked HERE and HERE), True Colors is a conference for LGBTQ(insertlettershere) youth. It's THE largest one of it's kind in the USA. I've gone for the past three years, and honestly, it's one of the highlights of my year. Think of an explosion of rainbows and young people and happiness. For. Two. Full. Days.
What the news is, not only am I going to be going to TC (for the fourth time), but I will also will be presenting. The thing that I'm most excited about is this: I WILL GET A PRESENTER'S LANYARD. Seriously, nothing is cooler than that.
What am I presenting, you ask? Why, my family and I have a theatre business, and we'll be doing theatre games. I am beyond excited about this. You have no idea.
We're also sending out some other proposals, so I'll be talking about them as soon as I have confirmation on that. I just feel like it's...maybe jinxing it to talk about it on here without getting confirmed first.
In other news, the snow here has reached a level of ABOVE MY HEAD. I am not short, either. I love snow, and I love LOTS of snow (I am a child, a very young child)and I ADORE making forts. Therefore, it was only natural that a giant pile of snow would become a fort/igloo/cave.
I've also been playing my guitar more lately. I've gone back to some of my childhood songs. You know, the ones that you play and, they just remind you of being seven or eight years old and spending your autumns at the local Renissance faire. Just me? Ahh, well then...
Anyway, sitting around playing "The Wild Rover", "Whiskey In The Jar" and "Scarborough Faire" is just a great feeling.
So, with that, I leave you.
If you haven't seen it yet, please go HERE and tell me what you think of my brandy-new FAQ.
If you have questions about whatever, post 'em below! I'll be happy to answer!
Hope you're having a great week five!
~Whimsy
*Or people who know me in a non-bloggy way.
Very, very longtime blog readers of mine* (we're talkin' March 2010, here) will recall my talking about True Colors. For those of you who don't want to go searching through pages upon pages of blog entries, or are just too lazy to read another article (linked HERE and HERE), True Colors is a conference for LGBTQ(insertlettershere) youth. It's THE largest one of it's kind in the USA. I've gone for the past three years, and honestly, it's one of the highlights of my year. Think of an explosion of rainbows and young people and happiness. For. Two. Full. Days.
What the news is, not only am I going to be going to TC (for the fourth time), but I will also will be presenting. The thing that I'm most excited about is this: I WILL GET A PRESENTER'S LANYARD. Seriously, nothing is cooler than that.
What am I presenting, you ask? Why, my family and I have a theatre business, and we'll be doing theatre games. I am beyond excited about this. You have no idea.
We're also sending out some other proposals, so I'll be talking about them as soon as I have confirmation on that. I just feel like it's...maybe jinxing it to talk about it on here without getting confirmed first.
In other news, the snow here has reached a level of ABOVE MY HEAD. I am not short, either. I love snow, and I love LOTS of snow (I am a child, a very young child)and I ADORE making forts. Therefore, it was only natural that a giant pile of snow would become a fort/igloo/cave.
I've also been playing my guitar more lately. I've gone back to some of my childhood songs. You know, the ones that you play and, they just remind you of being seven or eight years old and spending your autumns at the local Renissance faire. Just me? Ahh, well then...
Anyway, sitting around playing "The Wild Rover", "Whiskey In The Jar" and "Scarborough Faire" is just a great feeling.
So, with that, I leave you.
If you haven't seen it yet, please go HERE and tell me what you think of my brandy-new FAQ.
If you have questions about whatever, post 'em below! I'll be happy to answer!
Hope you're having a great week five!
~Whimsy
*Or people who know me in a non-bloggy way.
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