Well, well, well.

Well, well, well. Looks like I've got myself a way to share my adventures and miss-adventures I have fallen upon or may fall into in the very near future.

See, my grammar is bad, my spelling is probably failing and it's colder than a you know what in you know where. That said, you are fairly warned and blessed with holy water as not to catch this horrific ailment called; I've been a housewife not out of choice, but out of instanity, blabbidy, blah, blaaaaah.

I will start out by saying thank you to a fellow blogger who reminded me of how good it feels to put this noise in my head out for strangers read and mill over. This will be my unconditional soundboard for me to torture and torment. Hahaha. And yes, I am insane.

Hmm, uh, eeeerm. The thinking process is so hard on me. Its filled with music, sounds of rocks falling and rain. Let me not forget and the colors. Oh boy there are a lot of colors.

Someone once said when they heard music they saw colors. At that very moment, I had someone I could identify with. The noise in this noggin is loud and colorful. I see music as color as this person does. What a freakin relief. Siiiiigh. I can't begin to tell you's how hard it is to feel like you're the only one with this sound and color simutaneously plotting against my train of though. I guess its kind of like A.D.D.?

It has been said, lol, I don't make much sense. NEVER. Not I. I am always streamline, know where I'm goin and a fashion diva at the same time. Afterall, I do own one pair of designer shoes, two serious designer handbags, and I bought my pajamas at Wal-Mart. Trend setter!

Really folks, on the serious side. I think I just may be verging on a new friendship here on blogspot. I just hope it doesn't expect me to tuck its little blog in bed.

SO through my adventures as a "sophie gurl" I will share. My extreme ups, downs, binge shopping, housedress wearing, passion for marshmallows and simply can't live without my paxil and lamictal without losing a bit of gray matter, long drawn out grammatically incorrect babble, while wearing a little 19th century bun, smelling of rose water, wanna be a lady who does lunch will be posted here. Here for your personal entertainment or downward spiral to join me in the perils of the bipolar kindom we know as my brain.

Its not so bad, there's cookies in here. ;)