Tuesday, May 26, 2009


"No one, not even myself, understands me."

I've eased into my 30s this year (read: kicking and screaming) and have just recently and reluctantly given in to the fact that I am no longer thirteen. I'm short and what Oma would call 'of good German stock.' I have a degree in British and American Literature (and if you were to ask me to diagram a simple sentence, I'm not sure I could anymore) from a small, private, Midwestern college. I am the wife of a gentle man.

In this, you'll have to understand the title "The Dreamer and The Realist." My husband is the grounded one (The Realist). He pays the bills, takes care of the house stuff (although, I shouldn't say that - I'm a right handy woman when it comes to replacing outlets or lightbulbs, or the toilet; left to his own devices on the small things, I'd have to hire a bevy of people to fix what he tried to!), and keeps me from flitting away our money on frivolous things (read: shoes and purses). I, however, am the flighty one (The Dreamer). I am much happier when I can be outside, rain or shine, daydreaming. We've been together more than eleven years, but will only be married four this fall. I am the mother of four furry creatures - two dogs (Daisy and Duke) and two rats (Bonnie and Sally).

I am a voracious reader. I am a mage in World of Warcraft. I knit (not the greatest, but getting better), and love the gals I knit with. I like to get together with friends and sit and open a bottle of wine (of course, we each have to have our own) and talk about nothing in particular. I used to have a best friend that I could talk about the color of the grass and we'd laugh ourselves until we cried over nothing anyone else would find amusing. Alas, he's gone now...married (that's another story for another time). I love sports - soccer, baseball, football, golf. I love trying new recipes for food, and would prefer all food be grilled over an open flame. I love the outdoors - hiking, caving, traipsing through creeks up to my shins and having little fishies swim around my ankles. Camping is the best done under night skies - none of this 'air-conditioned, sleep-in-a-camper' stuff that passes for camping nowadays. Give me a warm sleeping bag, a sheet, and a cheapie chaise lounge (and that's optional), a low fire and stars as far as the eye can see, and you've made me one happy woman.

You might ask me, "S, why did you title this 'The Dreamer and The Realist' if it's your blog?" Although I run it, my husband is a very big part of my life; therefore, he had to be a part of my blog. He'll be well-represented here!

Feel free to ask any questions or hell, even call me out on anything (I have a feeling that this will mostly be for me!).

Be safe out there,


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Be safe out there.