You swine

The latest outbreak of the influenza virus is giving journalists something new to talk about. Companies are restrcting travel to and from Mexico City and the US is declaring it a public health emergency, though President Obama is telling the US not to be alarmed. Meanwhile, the World Organization for Animal Health, according to The New York Times, is telling all of us not to call it the "swine flu" because people will think they can get it from eating pork. Huh?

What's really happening here? It's a good news story. Americans have grown tired of hearing about the economy, how the healthcare system is a mess, and we've long since figured out that "reality TV" is carefully staged. We needed something more interesting: an epidemic that can strike anyone, any where fits the bill.

Stay tuned.

Susan Boyle

The nation is raving over Susan Boyle, the dowdy 47-year-old from a village in Scotland who wowed Simon Cowell on Britain's Got Talent. She has an amazing voice and sang a beautiful song that left the audience, and some of the judges, giving her a standing ovation. Many people said it made them cry. I found the song choice to strike an emotional chord, but what I found to be really sad was how she was mocked when she came up on stage. People already judged her based on her looks and many, including Cowell himself, were sure that nothing short of a new violinist could sound worse on the ears. Susan Boyle proved them wrong and reinforced the old saying, "You can't judge a book by its cover." Good for you, Susan!

Flip-flops and funky feet

I'm not sure what the practice is in the rest of the US, but in the northeast there is a trend among women to wear flip-flops during their commute to work and then (ideally) change into shoes at the office. Not for anything, but this makes my stomach churn. I can't help but notice that the vast majority of these women have feet that look like they are caked with dirt. Each step reveals a charcoal gray sole. I know that some of these women have walked through the subways, stepped into the gutters, and God-only-knows where else, no doubt picking up feces and urine along the way. They've got the latest fashions, the hottest hair styles, and make-up worthy of a Covergirl model. Guys are probably drooling all over them and, wait--their feet are covered in muck. Now, that's sexy!

Researchers have taken swabs to toilet seats, the folding trays on airplanes, and other everyday items to look for e. coli, why not swab these feet? Ugh.

Bret: I want to buy you a little something

I am a reality TV junkie. (Yes, I know it's not real.) Yet, I am drawn to those shows like a moth to light.

As I watch women give Bret Michaels, of Poison, their love and affection (and then some) on Rock of Love, I wish someone would give him something he could really use. Something more helpful to him than a guitar or a new motorbike. I have the perfect gift in mind and, if I were on the show, already know how it would go down...

I'll walk into his room and he'll greet me, wearing jeans, a graphic tee, and a bandanna. He'll pull me close to him, and gesture for me to sit next to him on the bed. That's when I will turn to him, whispering sweetly, "I have something special for you."

As he looks into my eyes, his flowing blonde hair resting on his shoulders, I will snuggle closer and present him with my gift.

"That's just awesome!" he'll proclaim, as he pulls Roget's masterpiece from the wrapping that took me hours to get just right. "Thanks, this is just completely awesome!" Slowly, I'll put one arm around him and together, we will flip the pages of this most sacred tome--a thesaurus. Together, we'll enter communication bliss as we find synonyms galore.

And that, Bret Michaels, will not be "awesome," but rather "amazing," "astonishing," "breathtaking," or "magnificent."

My first follow

You always remember your "firsts," at least I do. I remember my first real bike (it was a red/purple color) and my first dog (Heidi, a miniature Schnauzer). I even remember the first time I set foot in school. So, it is with much fanfare that I welcome another first into my life: my first follower on this blog! BommaMama, you will always hold a special place in that dusty corner of my mind! Years from now, when I am old, wrinkly, and stuffing old Kleenex up my sleeves so I have them for later, I will recall the good old days of blogging and my first follower. You will come immediately to mind and I will tell my grandkids about you, my first dog, etc.

Introducing...me

This is my first-ever blog and you're all invited to join me as I share my thoughts about what goes on around me. As a trained journalist (now, nobody is trained), I've been trained to be keenly observant. In other words, my Spidey senses kick in when I'm out and about. Heck, sometimes they kick in when I am just sitting around the house.

So, until I can get my blog-legs, you may have to read a few posts that leave you wondering, "What the hell is she talking about?" But hang in there, it's sure to get interesting.