Turns out I can't let you hear all of my music.  Can't host it on MSN, can link to it if hosted elsewhere, but alas, I do not have that.  So, too bad, so sad you can't hear what I want you to. I think the type of music you like says quite a bit about you, don't you think so too?

 

Arrgh!

I've decided I want to be like the cool kids and have a blog too.  My mom says it's fine. (please, like she knows).  Today is all about me, one would think it was my birthday or barring that, one would assume I'm all about me. Which about 55% of the time is false.  But today as no one knows me, I shall introduce myself.  I'm Teki.  Why yes, that is my real first name, and no, it's not short for anything.  I went through my entire lower educational career with that name and lived to tell the tale.  As you can see from my photo, I'm about as mid-West farmer girl as you can get and still ended up with a tricky name.  Which is apparently spelled wrong.  (it is pronounced Tea-key, like the torch, or the hut or the football player, note I'm older so he's has a GIRLS name) Whoops, got a bit off track there.  I grew up in the midwest, moved to Maryland, met a boy, married, moved around with him, had a great daughter, then divorced him and moved back to the midwest.  So now, I'm back in school full time (gotta love the spousal support, thanks Matt!) attempting to get my degree from health professions in nuclear medicine technology.  I could bore you to tears about it, but I won't.  Not just yet anyway.  Oh, yeah, sometimes I work at one of the hospitals as a transcriptionist. FYI, you can do that at home, I had my own business before moving back to MO.  That's the professional me.  The personal me, I bought a sweetie-baby house (I luuuuvvvv my house) and the kid and I proceeded to fill it with live animals.  We had 2 labs, but then added 2 cats.  One day we went to the pet store for cat fud, when (pure evil) the rescue people  were there with the saddest little black dog ever.  He, of course, came home with us.  He is our Gus (gus-gus, gussy, gussers), and he is also pure evil.  But I lllluuuuvvv him.  He is a border collie mix (apparently mixed with some sort of spawn from hell that likes to bark and eat markers).  The third cat was stolen from the neighbors.  Long story but as the kid said "But mom, they are horrible cat parents!" That sealed it and Scout (aka the bowling ball) moved in.  (Just so you don't think they were pining for their cat, the moved out in the middle of the night without paying their rent and never once looked for the cat) That pretty much brings you all up to date, aren't you happy you stopped by? I thought so. I close with this great saying I saw on another site:

"When I'm old, I don't want them to say of me, 'She's so charming,' I want them to say, 'Be careful, I think she's armed.'"-G. Stoddart