Pull Up a Chair and Get Comfy

I got married 4 months ago to the most wonderful man -- my darling Andrew. It was a destination wedding in San Diego. BEAUTIFUL country, in case you have no idea what I'm talking about. If you've been to San Diego then I don't need to explain to you the feel of the city, or the smell of the air, or how the bay lights up at night when the ships come in. If you've never been to this part of America then here's what you do: call the office and tell them you have the bird flu and you'll be out for a week, throw some clean underpants into the back seat of your little DeLorean, pack a few sandwiches and then take a road trip to the west coast. You'll be glad you did.

It's funny what you learn about someone after living with them for 4 months. My Andrew is a proud gamer. I'm not talking those silly mind puzzles you can play on Google for free. I mean the ones that have bigger play books than the IRS. I mean the ones with wizards and dragons, the ones with multi-global capabilities that let you play with people in Bangladesh and China. Serious stuff. And apparently there are special requirements if you're worth anything as a gamer: all your spare time MUST be spent playing. No exceptions. So, bless his heart, my Andrew suggested that I find myself a hobby. A hobby! Why didn't I think of that? What a wonderful distraction! With a hobby I'll be too busy to notice all the precious time those infernal contraptions are stealing away from me!

Alright then. So here it is. My shiny new hobby. My return to the blogging world. This isn't new skin for me since I've been down this road before, but I do feel that this time will be different and dare I say....fresh? Consider all of the delicious topic choices I have before me: a shiny new married life, shiny new jobs (I'm a legal assistant and a dog sitter) and a cabbage-patch plethora of political dribble that I can't wait to share with the wide wide world. Oh, what to talk about? National debt? Bailouts? The new President? What I saw on my way to the grocery store? It never ends. This is why I chose to name my blog libeccio. It's a word that means Southwest wind. Because you never know what's going to blow in. Or let's face it. You never know what's going to blow. Period.

So grab a chair. Take your smelly shoes off and stay awhile. Let's bang our fists on the kitchen table and sing a loud song for the neighbors to hear. I mean, what's music without an audience anyway? I'll see you back soon. Very soon.