L. D. Parker

Happy Hump Day my dears! We’re almost to the weekend! Or at least we are a lot closer than we were yesterday at this time. Today I’ve been thinking about choices we make in life. I firmly believe that there is ALWAYS a choice to be made. Now, granted, sometimes the choices you have all suck, but you still have a choice. It’s part of that whole free-will thing we humans have going on. Often when we make choices we later look back and wish we’d made a different choice. N

It has come to my attention that I have a whole new avenue of potential readers these days, simply because our friend Mr. Mystery Man (who remarkably hasn't run screaming from my insanity yet) actually takes an interest in this little corner of cyberspace, and apparently is sharing with others… Hmmm… Hello FOMMMs!!! (Friends of Mr. Mystery Man) LOL This particular revelation did give me a momentary pause as I pondered would I start censoring what I post here. Key word in t

I just had the privilege of having the most fascinating visit to my hooligans’ school. Ordinarily my wonderfully amazing fantastic father (love you still Daddy!) picks up my kids from school. However, due to extenuating circumstances, I’m on kid duty for the next few days. I arrive at the school and am standing out front talking to a couple of teachers that I’m particularly friendly with. My Young Hooligan (YH) sidles up and says (quite loudly) “Are you talking about Mr.

I should probably start with a disclaimer that I am truly biased because I have the best Daddy ever made—EVER. No, no, I understand that some of you may THINK that your own Daddy is the bestest, but I’m sorry to tell you he’s not because mine is. Now that we have that out of the way… My friends know that I have practically placed my father on a pedestal and had his feet glued to it. Because he’s AWESOME…hello? Ok, have to stop the hero worship for a minute. But in all ser

Three a.m. is without question or exception my least favorite time of day. The reason? I see it way too often. There is something about this particular time of night where if I’m having any kinds of anxiety or stress, they seem to bubble to the surface, break through the edge of my subconscious and begin dancing a jig on the stage of my brain. Suffice to say, it is currently 3:04 a.m. and I’m up. I have a theory about why. Not based in any kind of science or anything – ye

Are you happy now Kat? Really? You are an I-D-I-O-T, but apparently I succumb to whatever makes you smile, so maybe I’m the one with issues. OK people, nothing to see here. That was not the original title of this post, but a certain publicity slut wanted desperately for me to write a post with that title, so there you have it. Interestingly enough, her raunchy title got me thinking about the different personalities of men. Oh…right…those of you who read this regularly are

Today I have a first date. Now in the past I’ve commented on first dates with – shall we say a little muted enthusiasm. Ok, fine, I’m not usually a fan. They tend to be awkward and uncomfortable. Especially because so many of my first dates stem from an on-line dating website. It’s just weird. It’s no wonder I’ve started avoiding those places like the plague. This one, however, is different. Met on-line again, however not on a dating website. Actually on a fitness web