The random misadventures of a (formerly)Single Super Mom

So every day I look forward to the mail in my mailbox with a mixture of anticipation and dread.  Anticipating some neat magazine, product to test from the myriad of online surveys I busy myself with, or maybe a check from some long lost relative that kicked the bucket; or dreading bills or some other equally as vile thing.  When I got the big fat envelope that said U.S. District Court I thought, HOLY CRAP...who's suing me?  I don't have anything....I mean, my net worth is barely in the positive category...I have a dog and 2 kids..but nobody wants them, do they? I open up the envelope with great trepidation and the words JURY DUTY leap off the page.  At first I thought, what the hell?  I've never seen Jury Duty on hot pink paper.  Then I started to get a teeny bit excited.  What if it's a salacious murder trial?  What if it's the mob?  What if it's a celebrity!!!!  You have to fill out a very intensive questionnaire detailing you...

Today, much like any other day, I sat at my desk at work and alternately cursed my patients for being so doggone stupid; and got warm fuzzy feelings from the ones that are so sweet.  I usually filter conversations through the mass of information that is sifting through my brain, and today, one thing stood out.  Bomb at Boston Marathon.  I immediately went to the computer to see what had occured, and the bottom of my stomach dropped to the floor.  I saw images upon images of mangled bodies, tears, and first responders rushing to aid.  I had traumatic flashbacks to the day, not so long ago, of watching the news following the Newtown shootings.  Something about this attack, just like the ones in Newtown, shook me to my very core.  I couldn't help myself as I clicked through slideshow after slideshow of the carnage, tears running down my face.  Why do these things happen?  Why do pepole strike where they know their victims are the mos...

Scary movies are a very subjective topic.  Some things scare the crap out of people, while others find the same fare so tame as to be snore-worthy.  I LOVE scary movies.  I love the feeling of adrenaline that comes when you know something bad is about to happen.  I love that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that comes with the anticipation of terror and mayhem.  Scary movies (well, and superhero movies but that's another topic) are probably my favorite genre of movie.  Scary movies done right make me happy.  Scary movies done wrong piss me off.  For example.  Last night we watched this crazy  movie called Blood Night, the legend of Mary Hatchet or some such.  Starts out with a 12 year old kid pulling a Lizzie Borden on her mom and dad.  She then gets sent to a mental institution where she is assaulted years later by one of the guards, becomes pregnant, and is told her baby died at birth.  Somehow in all of this, she...