I like to think I am the Captainess of my domain. The Wizardess of beyond the yellow brick driveway. But when it comes down to it, I’m a weak spoke in the cog. Whatever a cog is. Everyone knows I’m the idea person. Noun; one who knows it all, but doesn’t follow the advice. Sometimes charming, most times annoying. I sometimes wonder why I bother to talk. (Not really. I am endlessly fascinating). Recently, my Manfriend invited me to meet up with a friend of his for a drink and to ’catch up’. Oh, I know what that means. Code for I want something from you and will lie and cheat my way to get it. Might be a tad dramatic, but I ungraciously declined the invite, but have at it Manfriend. (This is really a test to see if MF still reads my amazing blogue.) Welllllll, I was right!!&$?! ‘Friend’ really did want some intel, and MF spilled MY guts. Not his guts! All the things we had talked about previously came tumbling out, and that was only after one beer. Really, you didn’t think our conversations were private? Personal? Or is it like in sixth grade where you have to have everyone promise not to tell anyone. And then everyone tells everyone. MF doesn’t see what the big deal is I’m sure, but the ship just needs some security. Some I got your back. Now I’m feeling very guarded in what I say, and I love the free flowing of ideas. Especially mine. I have a terrific idea for a book (being the idea lady and all). In it, the characters slowly fall in love with the reader. Get it? Quite the mind bend. Shhhhhh don’t tell anyone. A lot to ponder. Better get in a sleep appetizer. You know, a nappetizer. Oh, now that’s funny….