To Have a "Good Time"

I'm just wondering if someone can explain to me the draw in smoking and drinking. Recent events in my life have caused me to question this. Smoking is just disgusting. I always think of this one sign I saw on the highway when I was little, "Kissing a smoker is like licking an ashtray". Attactive, hmm? My dad smokes a pipe and cigars, so I don't mind the smell of those. Cigarettes smoke, however, just repulses me!! It smells disgusting!!

Drinking is another thing I don't understand. Why is it fun?? Why would you want to drink to the point where you aren't thinking, you can barely walk, you aren't in ANY position to "make good choices"...it just doesn't make sense. What makes it even WORSE to me is when you are so irresponsible that you would go out and DRIVE in that condition. Drinking and driving to me is one of the most selfish, inconsiderate, and horrible things you can do. You not only put your OWN life in danger, but also the lives of everyone around you, people who are totally undeserving of such peril. Nobody else deserves to suffer from your bad decisions.

A friend of mine made a very good point when we were discussing this the other day. She was talking about smoking, but it applies to drinking, too. Chrisitie, my friend, was saying how she just couldn't understand why someone would purposely try to increase his chances of dying, when people like her brother, Doug, who has lukemia and whom I've mentioned more than once, sit in the hospital trying harder than anything to live. It just seems totally unfair. So yeah, if anyone has some insight, it would be appreciated.

Major Milestone!!

This is the official 100th post of My Life....and Stuff!! Shocking, I know. Remember back in kindergarden when we had Zero the Hero day for the 100th day of school? Everyone had to bring in 100 things...like pennies or pretzels or candy corns or whatever? One year one of my teachers even made a cake shaped like 100!! In reflection, i've "met" a ton of amazing people through the blogs, which is pretty sweet. You people have shared some pretty interesting times in my life and even contributed to some of the drama. Thanx to my faithful readers, and to the unfaithful ones...go eat a gummi bear. So anyway, it seems like 100 posts should be comemorated in some special way, the only problem being that I can't think of a good way. You people's favorite post? favorite comment? favorite thing about the blog? the joy you feel when I DON'T post, perhaps? Who even knows. Happy 100th post to me!!

Adoption Day

This past Thursday, November 9, was my adoption day. It was the day a whole bunch of years ago that my adoption from Columbia was finalized. I was about 8 weeks old when I was adopted, so no, I don't remember anything. I didn't even pick up SPANISH easily when I took it...psh, it figures:-) Anyway, I was thinking the other day about just how blessed I really am. I know someone who is 16...and pregnate. Putting myself in her place, I imagine that I would be absolutely terrified. Yes, I understand its a result of her bad decisions, and I am in NO way condoning it, but still, just stop a minute and think. One mistake and BOOM, now there's a baby coming in 4 months. She can't support herself, let alone a baby! This train of thought led me to thinking about MY birthmother. I don't know the situation surrounding my birth. I don't know how old my birthmother was, what she was like, or anything. I know her name, but that's about it. I also know something my mom and dad have taught me ever since I was old enough to understand. My birthmother loved me enough to give me up, to give me a life that she never would be able to had she kept me in Columbia. It turns out that Columbia is a pretty scary place...I sure wouldn't want to be living there right now. I hear stories about adopted kids that hate their birthmoms for giving them away, but I guess I just don't think of it like that. Today I have an incredible mom and dad who love me a ton. I have great friends, a good school to go to, and everything I need. My birthmother loved me enough to let me go, and that's something I'll always be grateful for.