Who doesn't like avacados? No, seriously, do you like avacados? Did I even spell that right? It seems like there should be an e in there, like with potatoes.

So, do you like avacadoes? (avacadohs? avahcaddos?) If you don't, you should be forced to wear a construction helmet with super glue on it so you can be suspended from a steel girder while people kick you in the nads. (I don't think that last part made it into the commercial...)

I got bored with my old template, simple as that. And I'm procrastinating... I'm supposed to be working on my website, which is coming up on its one year anniversary of being nothing more than an under construction page. Thankfully I got pissed off enough about it when I saw Jen's cool as crap website to want to do something about that. Unfortunately sitting here doing the blog thing isn't getting my site any closer to a final design...

I've been thinking about this all day - I just found out one of my friends from high school, Maria, has a blog. She's sent emails out over the past few years about going to med school in northern California, and hot damn her writing is good. Her blog is no different. Reading just the tiny bit I've read has been freakishly eye-opening. Maria's a really great, really normal person, always seems to be so together and well-adjusted. I had no idea our backgrounds with fucked up parents were so similar, and my heart goes out to her that she's had to go through that. And while we're both adults, living in their houses is done, the aftermath still needs to be dealt with and it's almost scary reading my same thoughts about that in her blog. She just articulates it so much better than I do.

It's strange and a little scary to me that different degrees and different types of abuse can produce the same results in the person it's inflicted on. More about that sometime. I've been really up in the air mentally lately. I can't wait until the holidays are over.

Enough of this procrastinating shit, I've got a website to mess around with.