Thursday, March 29, 2012

Love at First (2nd, 3rd...) Sight?

"I'm 100% positive she's my soul mate."
~Kip Dynamite (speaking about LaFawnduh)

Since everyone now knows about my past life revelations, I figured I'd follow up with a post about the concept of "soul mates." In my previous post, I mentioned that in my quest to understand the concept of reincarnation and past lives, I learned about soul mates as well. This is one aspect of reincarnation that makes a whole lot of sense to me.

Years before I learned of my possible past life as Sharon Baganowski, I met (and recognized?) my soul mate. When people ask me, "How did you and Rob meet?," I tend to cringe a bit, because it's not exactly the tale that dreams are made of. The story sounds a lot worse than the reality of it, though. I was dating one of Rob's friends from college who had moved down to Florida to start a new job. My boyfriend was living in the apartment above my sister's mother-in-law's house (which was down the street from my parent's house where I lived). He had gotten the apartment through Rob, who also happened to be close friends with my brother-in-law's brother (whose mother owned the house down the street from me). Confused yet? 

(I was crazy about my boyfriend at the time, by the way, so it wasn't as if I was looking for another man.) Rob ended up joining us for a movie one night. He was "the third wheel." ;) I thought that Rob  was a nice guy, but there were no "sparks." (Remember, I wasn't looking!) My boyfriend had to borrow $2 from Rob that night. He was headed out of town the next day, so he asked me if I would go by Rob's store (KMC had just opened that year) and pay him back for him. I said, "Sure."

So, off I went to KMC with the $2. Rob and I got to talking and I felt so incredibly comfortable with him (normally, I was sooooo shy around guys - this was only my third boyfriend, and I had never dated anyone longer than two months). I felt like I had  known him for years. We ended up talking for a long time after the store was supposed to close at 3. I felt so bad that I had kept him there, but he didn't seem to mind. The one thing that struck me was that as I walked out of KMC that day, something inside of me said, "That is the man I'm going to marry." Now, that was TOTALLY random. Even I was struck by that thought. I was still crazy about my boyfriend, but I was definitely attracted to Rob in a very different way.

As time went on, my boyfriend and I realized that it just wasn't going to work out. He was extremely independent and I wanted a boyfriend who wanted to spend time with me. We decided to end it. A few weeks later, Rob and I went out for the first time. [Since my ex lived down the street from me,  Rob did stop by and talk to him before picking me up that evening.] The rest, they say, is history.  Rob and I have been inseparable ever since. I remember hearing INXS' "Mystify" for the first (and only) time that on the radio that night, and the lyric "...and we're leaving broken hearts behind..." has always stuck with me. 

I had heard the term "soul mate," but never really given it much thought. As I read more about "soul mates," in the context of reincarnation, it all made sense to me. Only Love is Real - The Story of Soul Mates Reincarnated, by Dr. Brian Weiss, is my favorite book of all time. If you've never read it (whether you believe in reincarnation or not), I highly recommend it! Soul mates are basically souls that reappear together over lifetimes. Not necessarily every lifetime, and not always in the same relationship - they could alternately be spouses, siblings, friends, parents, or even enemies. Learning about this, to me, explained how I felt so incredibly comfortable with Rob, so soon after we had first met. Just as Kip felt about LaFawnduh, I'm 100% positive Rob is my soul mate. ;) I had never considered the fact that a person may have more than one soul mate, and that soul mate doesn't necessarily equal spouse, significant other, etc.; but can mean any kind of relationship. 

So, we can have friends who may be our soul mates. I believe that my friend, Isabel is one of my soul mates. We've been best friends since 7th Grade, when we fought over John Taylor in the PBMS cafeteria (she eventually decided that she preferred Roger). We were best friends throughout high school, then kind of went our separate ways after we graduated (even though we both continued to live at home in Pompano and commute to our colleges). We now live fairly close to one another, but rarely see each other. We do keep in touch on Facebook, though. In spite of the fact that we live separate lives,  when we are able to get together in person, it's like no time has passed.

I have met other people over the years who I have had basically NOTHING in common with, but with whom have formed very strong friendships. I feel very comfortable with them, in spite of the fact that we have different interests or come from different backgrounds. I think that they too could be my soul mates, because I don't feel that way with everyone I meet. I have known people (some very close to me) who have, quite honestly, scared the hell out of me. I consider myself a pretty easy-going, tolerant person. I try to be nice to and get along with everyone, but there are some people that I just do not (nor do I believe will ever) feel completely comfortable with. I believe that these people, too, could be soul mates. Maybe one of them was my (Sharon's) mother in my previous life. (?)

It's been said that soul mates appear in our lives to teach us life lessons. After all, if reincarnation exists (or even if it doesn't), life is all about spiritual growth. I firmly believe that God puts people in our lives for a reason. I am thankful for all of my "soul mates" and the lessons (both positive and painful) that I have learned from them. Most of all, I am so thankful that I met and have been able to share my life with my #1 soul mate, Rob. :) 

With Love and Aloha ~ Nancy

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Older Than My 41 Years?

This past Monday, I was shopping at TJ Maxx. As I brought my purchases up to the twenty-something cashier, she asked me, "Are you over 55?" After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, I replied, "No, I'm not, and I'm thinking about jumping in front of a moving vehicle right now, thank you very much." She explained that she had asked to see if I qualified for the Monday Senior Discount. Now, I like a good bargain as much as the next person, but not at the expense of my ego. ;) Wow. But, in spite of the title, that's NOT what this blog is about.

Nerdiness is nothing new to me! :)
If you've been following my blog, you know that I was born on Friday the 13th. Ironically, that is not the strangest thing about me. When I was 24 years old, my mom told me something that would change my outlook on life forever. I don't know how you feel about the idea of reincarnation, but I can tell you that, for much of my life, I didn't give it any thought at all. I was raised Southern Baptist. I believed (and still a point) that when you die, you either go to Heaven or to Hell. When I was growing up, I thought that wherever you ended up is where you spent eternity (and eternity is a loooooooooooong time). Now, however, I'm not so sure that's the whole story.

I don't remember a whole lot about my early childhood (but then again, who does?). I've been told that I was very bright for my age. I could read by the time I started Kindergarten. I do remember that I loved to  look through my family's World Book encyclopedias (that my parents still have!). I was fascinated by the pages on the human heart. I thought that maybe some day I wanted to be a doctor...or a nurse (or a waitress at Howard Johnson's). But, I digress. 

When we moved to Florida, I started school in second grade. The teachers suggested that I be moved up to third because I was very advanced. Since I was young for my grade anyway, my parents decided to keep me with kids my own age. That was a smart move. I wouldn't want to have had to endure middle school with kids a year older than me anyway. [I should mention that the brilliance I exhibited as a child has waned a lot as the years have gone by. I once read that when a woman gives birth, part of her brain leaves her body with the placenta. I believe that this is a fact.] Although I was bright for my age, I don't remember ever thinking about a life other than the one I was living. 

One day in 1995, I decided to stop by my parents house for a visit on my way home from work. My mom looked at me and said, "Nancy, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a long time..." I had NO CLUE where this was going. She explained that she had been watching Oprah, whose guest that day was Carol Bowman, the author of a book called "Children's Past Lives." [At this point, I was still completely lost.] My mom proceeded to tell me the story of when I, as a toddler, revealed a past life to her. 

She said that I was about two years old, I was eating lunch in my high chair. I looked at her and casually said, "You weren't always my mommy." She asked me what I meant, figuring it was just child's play (though, at two years old, I couldn't have been talking for very long). I responded, "You weren't always my mommy.I had another mommy, and then I died and came to live with you." My mom was completely flabbergasted. Can you imagine having your baby tell you something like that?! She said that she didn't want to hear any more about it because she was so upset. 

When my sister (who was around 12 years old at the time) came home from school, my mom told her what I had said. So, my sister decided to ask me about it. I proceeded to tell her that my name had been Sharon Baganowski (sp?) and I lived in an apartment, NOT a house!, in New York City. I was seven  years old when my mother poisoned me. Keep in mind...this was coming, literally, out of the mouth of babes. As a TWO-YEAR-OLD child, I told my family this story!

Remember, my family was Southern Baptist. They did not believe in reincarnation. But, how could they deny what their toddler was saying? How could I possibly have come up with a story like that at such a young age? At the time, we were living in New Jersey. At my father's business, he had access to New York City telephone books (remember those?). On a whim, he decided to see if there were any "Baganowski"'s listed. Sure enough, there was! My mom refused to let him call. (I can't say I blame her...what do you say? "Yeah, I have a daughter who claims that she may have been the child you poisoned...")

I never really spoke about it again. My mom said that she would ask me periodically as I was growing up whether I knew a "Sharon Baganowski." I always told her that I never knew anyone by that name. I don't remember her asking me, but the name didn't ring any bells to me when she told me the story as an adult either. 

Just like my mom had been 22 years earlier, I was completely FLOORED. My first dilemma was my faith. I realized that what I had believed all my life may not be completely true. [My mom actually told me that this is one of the reasons she never mentioned the whole incident to me.] Naturally, I became very curious and wanted to read everything I could about reincarnation. I started by reading Children's Past Lives by Carol Bowman. It was an amazing book. Carol's journey began when her son (ironically named "Chase") revealed a past life to her out of the blue (like I had done with my mom). The book included stories of other children who had revealed past lives, some of which could actually be verified. The book discussed other famous past life researchers, like Dr. Ian Stevenson, who was able to actually bring one Indian boy who had recalled a past life (reincarnation is widely accepted in India) to his former family. He immediately recognized everyone in the house and knew things that only the person he claimed to have been would have known. Even the family was convinced that this was their deceased relative. This wasn't an isolated incident. There are many similar stories in the literature. I was very intrigued.

Next, I read Dr. Brian Weiss' book, Many Lives, Many Masters. Dr. Weiss is a well-respected Psychiatrist who practiced in Miami. He was treating one of his patients, Catherine, and decided to use hypnosis to try and help her overcome some of her anxieties in phobias. He took her back to her childhood, but she couldn't recall anything significant. When he asked her to go back further (meaning earlier in her childhood), she started describing a scene out of ancient times. She described a sudden flood sweeping through her village, drowning her and her baby. Dr. Weiss (who had given no prior thought to reincarnation) was as amazed as anyone. After recalling that past life, Catherine completely lost her fear of the water and drowning - it was a catharsis for her. Throughout her treatment, Catherine went on to recall other past lives, some of which unlocked the secrets to her phobias and helped her overcome them. Dr. Weiss' third book, Only Love is Real (which covers the subject of soul mates) is my favorite book of all time. I firmly believe in the idea of soul mates and believe I married one of mine, but that's for another blog post.

I've read many books about reincarnation, soul mates, and past life regression. In my reading, I even learned that reincarnation was, in fact, mentioned in the Bible. The emperor Constantine had the chapters that dealt with reincarnation removed from the Bible in the first century. So, as I see it, it's okay for me, as a Christian, to believe in reincarnation. The concept itself, if you've never explored it, sounds very mystical and New Age-y. But, after studying it, it really does make a lot of sense to me. It explains why we just seem to "click" with certain people and just can't seem to get along with others. It explains fears and anxieties. Since I was a child, I've had an intense fear of tornadoes. I've never actually seen one (in this lifetime anyway). Maybe there's something to it? It's just one more reason why it is so important to love one another, and be kind, honest and forgiving. Be thankful for what you have and live with a joyful spirit. This is what "Aloha" is all about! 

Even after learning about what I said to my mom nearly 40 years ago and all that I've read about reincarnation, I have no memories of about my past life as Sharon Baganowski. I am completely revolted by the taste of honey (which most people like), so I've often wondered if my former mom hid the poison in honey; but I have no proof of that. I've tried to research whether a Sharon Baganowski (Bagnowski?, Bakanowski?, etc.) ever lived in New York City, but with no date to go on, other than the fact that it would have to be prior to November of 1970, it's kind of hard to verify that. Also, considering the fact that I was murdered by my mother, would there have been any death records, or was it a cover-up? I would love to know more, but I'm a bit of a chicken. What if there's a reason God doesn't want me to remember? 

I have communicated by e-mail with both Carol Bowman and Dr. Brian Weiss over the years, sharing my story with them. Both encouraged me to find a local licensed therapist who has been trained in past life regression. (Dr. Weiss no longer practices - he does seminars and workshops around the globe.) I've tried self-hypnosis past-life regression CDs, but I can't relax and shut my mind down enough to fully go "under." It's never worked for me. I have found a couple of therapists. I've even been in contact with a couple of them who are local. I just haven't gotten up the courage to take that leap into the unknown. Someday, I'll know the truth...just maybe not in this lifetime. ;)

With Love and Aloha ~ Nancy

Monday, March 19, 2012

Household Special Talents

I often wonder what my house would look like if I was no longer around. After coming home from my first couple of business trips to a mess and piles of laundry, I now specifically request that my family please tidy up before I come home. They have done a really good job lately. It's nice to come home to a neat house. Even when we go on vacation, I like to clean my house BEFORE I leave, so that I don't come home to a mess. I admit, I'm a little OCD when it comes to stuff like that. There are a few little things that peeve me to no end. I've noticed that there are several household tasks that, apparently, I am the only member of my family who is capable of doing them. I suspect that others (in other households) share my special abilities. 

Do you find that you are the only person in your household who:

Sunday morning
Monday afternoon
Replaces the soap (bar OR liquid)? It amazes me how little bar soap Rob can clean his body with. Sometimes I just don't put a new bar in the shower to see how long he'll that evil? Seriously though, the drawer that holds the "back-up bars" is less than six feet away from the shower. The same goes for liquid hand soap. He will just add water until you are basically washing with water and water. There's a very good chance that if he looked in the cabinet under the sink, he'd find more soap. I usually have at least one back-up (because I'm OCD like that). 

Replaces the paper towel?  I can't tell you how many times I've gone to use a paper towel, only to find an empty cardboard tube. Sometimes (if I'm lucky), the tube has been thrown away. Seeing as that step was taken, was it too much trouble to walk 10 steps to the laundry room to get another roll of paper towel?

Replaces the toilet paper? Rob does replace the toilet paper. I've often been (rightly) accused of not looking before I sit. He knows this and tries to prepare for potential disaster. My kids, however, are not as courteous. I can't count the number of times I have been stranded on my guest room toilet yelling for help. Sometimes a back-up roll is just a few feet away, sometimes it's in the master bath upstairs. 

Empties the overflowing trash can? At what point, I wonder, does my family think it is time to empty the trash can. I tend to go by the, "If the lid won't close" or "It is stinking up the house," it's time to take out the trash rule of thumb. Most of the time, the other members of my family do not follow this rule of thumb!

Recognizes the fact that I'll never wear/use something again, so it's time to donate it or throw it out? Rob is notorious for digging things out of the donation bags, claiming that he may need them again someday. (I stealthily hid his acid-washed black jeans in a black garbage bag so he didn't sneak them out, and he is STILL asking me what happened to his 'stretchy' black jeans.) Even worse is the fact that, God forbid, I decide to have a garage sale. My mom will come and tell me what I can and cannot get rid of. Next time, I'm waiting until she is out of town. (Sorry, Mom!)

Puts the recyclables in the recycling bin (instead of just leaving them to collect on the counter)? Seriously, it seems that going green is way too much of a chore.

Makes the bed (neatly)? OK - I have to give credit where credit is due. Rob does attempt to make the bed in the morning before he gets up. He pulls the covers up and tries to smooth them out (while still in the bed), then slips out the side. Voila, the bed is made (in his opinion). I see the bed and roll my eyes, smooth the covers, fluff and properly arrange the pillows. I don't expect to be able to bounce a quarter on it, but neatness does count. ;)

Throws dirty clothes in the laundry basket? There is a reason we have laundry baskets. If things do not end up in the laundry basket, there is a chance that they may not get washed. If you are upset because your black shorts have been dirty for a week, try picking them up off the bathroom floor and put them in the laundry basket, or, better yet, do your own damn laundry!

Understands that dirty clothes should be washed regularly and clean clothes do not need to be washed? On the one hand, I have Rob, who will wear a pair of shorts until my closet starts to smell of "Eau de Sweaty Man" and reuse a towel for days, claiming, "I'm clean when I dry myself with it!" On the other hand, I have Alana, who considers anything she's worn for more than a minute, "laundry," because it's easier to throw it on the floor or (Heaven forbid) in the hamper than fold it an put it away.

Sees (and is disturbed by) CLUTTER? Being slightly OCD, clutter drives me bananas. I will admit that I am notorious for letting papers pile up on my kitchen counter before I finally go over the edge and file them. But if I see something that is CLEARLY garbage, I THROW IT AWAY. Other members of my family don't seem to "get" this.

Notices mildew growing in the shower? As soon as I see the slightest sign of black (or orange) mildew, I'll risk asphyxiating myself with the X-14. I tend to avoid going in Alana's bathroom (as you may have read about in Dear Mike Rowe), but when I do, I am appalled by the funk that is growing in her shower and the fact that it doesn't seem to bother her (or her friends who spend the night all the time)! Just this past weekend, I took it upon myself to "get dirty" and SCRUBBED her shower with enough chemicals to destroy a village and a toothbrush. Her shower IS clean...for now...

Throws empty containers out? My cabinet may appear to be chock-full (OK, it usually is), but there is also a chance that it's fullness is only an illusion. There's a distinct possibility that many of the cracker, tea, oatmeal, cereal, etc. boxes are empty (or nearly empty). Empty shampoo and conditioner bottles will pile up in the kids' showers. Old, rusty razors litter Alana's shower floor. Why? In each case, there is a trash can no more than six feet away! Rinse it and recycle it or just THROW IT OUT!

Understands the concept of a silverware drawer - that there are different holders for each type of silverware? OK- let me begin by saying that I realized that I am blessed to have a husband who empties the dishwasher. He knows how much I hate that job, so he does it for me. I sincerely appreciate this, but I do wish that he put each piece of silverware back in its proper place. As it is, my silverware drawer is a free-for-all. The dinner forks are cavorting with the dessert forks. The soup spoons are hanging out with the teaspoons. I'm fine with diversity - just not in my silverware drawer.  My silverware is even shell-coded to make this task easier - knives and soup spoons are nautilus (or is it nautili?), dinner forks are scallops, dessert forks are sand dollars,  and tea spoons are conchs. It's not rocket science, is it?

So, how many of those talents do you share with me? I have a sneaking suspicion that I am not a rare breed. 

Having vented, I must admit that I do plenty of things that irk Rob too. If I get tired of seeing something clutter up my house, what do I do with it? Toss it out into Rob's Sanctuary (the garage). I can give as good as I get. ;)

With Love and Aloha ~ Nancy

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

You Might Be in the Country II

Miss Georgia Sweet Onion
eating an onion blossom
I recently took another trip to Manassas, GA to visit my sister and her family. Visiting the country is always fun, and I always make some new observations. This visit was no different. Here's what I learned this go-round:

If you have absolutely no cell phone service in the area where you most need cell phone service...You might be in the country. 

If streets are named for random people who have lived there (Ben Lynn Road, Linda's Lane), their appearance (Reddish Road), what grows there (Rye Patch Road), or what you might find there (Old Still Road)...You might be in the country

If you know a place where you can buy ammo by the pallet...You might be in the country

If the major annual event in your town is called the Rattlesnake Roundup...You might be in the country

If the parade for your town's major event includes (actual) stuffed animals (as in, those stuffed by a taxidermist)...You might be in the country

If more than ten pageants are held to form a Rattlesnake Roundup court...You might be in the country.

Former Rattlesnake RoundUp Queens
If the parade for your town's major even includes a lifted lawnmower...You might be in the country

If former pageant queens are readily available to appear in the parade for your town's major event...You might be in the country
If your volunteer fire department is larger and more dependable than an urban paid fire department...You might be in the country.

If camo and cowboy boots are everyday children's wear...You might be in the country. 

If you attend a major event in your town with your wife and child while wearing a shirt that reads "Let's play carpenter - You get hammered and I'll nail you"...You might be in the country. (True sorry I didn't get a photo!)

If you know 1,001 recipes including pecans [BTW, those pecan waffles were to DIE for, Mimi]...You might be in the country

If you know 1,001 recipes for venison...You might be in the country

If your best wine glasses have a screw-on lid...You might be in the country

If your town proudly announces it's most famous residents on a sign at the city limits...You might be in the country. (As a little aside to this niece and her family used to live in Rincon (pronounced to rhyme with "stinkin" or "lincoln," not like the surf spot in Puerto Rico, pronounced "Rrrrrrrreen-cone"), Georgia, where the the sign proudly boasted that it was the home of country music star, Billy Currington. I couldn't listen to Good Directions without thinking of Rincon.) 

If both county bus drivers live within a quarter mile down the highway from one another...You might be in the country 

If your church includes "Primitive," "Missionary," or "Free Will" as part of it's name...You might be in the country.

If you can shoot a gun from your front porch (or ANY spot on your property) and not have anyone call the police (or even think it was odd)...You might be in the country.

As you may imagine, hunting is a way of life in the country. My brother-in-law and nephew (and their kin-folk are all hunters). Each time I visit Manassas, I ask one of them to give me a shooting lesson. It's always entertaining. Even if I was after Bambi, the deer, turkeys and ducks need not fear me, as you will see below. 

Georgia Shooting Lesson #1
My nephew, Matt, tries to teach me  how to fire a 20-gauge shotgun (on his wedding day).
March 2009 (?)

Missed and nearly threw out my shoulder.

Georgia Shooting Lesson #2: The Sequel 
My nephew Matt and my brother-in-law Pat let me give the 20-gauge shotgun another try.
May 2010

Missed AGAIN and nearly threw out my shoulder AGAIN.

Georgia Shooting Lesson #3: A New Firearm 
My brother-in-law Pat teaches me how to shoot a .357 Magnum.
March 2012

I missed on this shot BUT...hit my target on shot number 2! Woo-hoo! The SOLO cup didn't know what hit it. I was feeling like such a Bad Ass, I almost stopped in Daytona for Bike Week on the way home...OK, I never made it pass the Hess station at I95! ;)

At the end of the day, a trip to the country is always an awesome experience!
Thanks for the Southern Hospitality y'all!

With Love and Aloha ~ Nancy

Saturday, March 3, 2012


There was a time in my life, probably from about age 12 through 18, that fashion really mattered to me. I guess that's true for most girls that age - trying to fit in, wanting to wear the latest fashions and accessories (and the 80s were a fun time to be into fashion). I think that I may have even gone through a (very) brief period where I considered wanting to be a fashion designer. In my teen years, I LOVED clothes. Shopping definitely became more fun for me after Weight Watchers, but even through my nowhere-near-a-supermodel phase, I still loved cute sweaters and dresses and leggings and belts and get the picture.

I gradually outgrew my desire to wear the latest trends, and started leaning more towards clothing that I liked, that fit my body, that was comfortable. If it happened to be the latest trend, so be it. If it wasn't...I really didn't (and still don't) care. Back in the 80s I was driven to wear $80 Guess jeans. Today, I would never think of spending that much money on a pair of jeans. My Mossimo jeans that I bought on the clearance rack at Target for $7 fit my body perfectly. They are comfortable, and I love them. I don't care that they didn't come from Nordstrom. I'm thrilled to death when I find a cute Roxy sundress on eBay in my size for less than $10. Bring it on! That's what I'm comfortable in, that's what I wear. Fashion victim? Not this woman and apparently NOT the toddler that I was in the early 70s, who didn't seem to care about fashion, or (so it seems) CLOTHING at all!

I've been going through a lot of old photos, looking for shots to use for my blog posts. As I thumbed through them, I noticed a distinct trend in the types of clothes I was wearing, or, more specifically, what I was NOT wearing. Everybody has photos of themselves as babies (and their own babies) in the bathtub (or the extremely cool 70s bathroom sink with a spout like a water fountain!) - that's normal. However, it seems that as a toddler in the early 1970s, I fully embraced the free spirit of the day. My parents were not hippies - far from it! They were middle-upper-class conservative people. They are Southern Baptist, for goodness sake! I've never even seen my mom in a bikini. Why on Earth would they let me run around nekkid as a jaybird? 

So, I'm going through the disc on which my dad had copied all of our family photos that were on slides. I come to this photo of me when I'm about 18 months old standing on the picnic table in adorable  little outfit:

 But, my mind says, "Wait a minute!...Go back to the previous photo that you just flipped by!" 

[Insert moment of stunned silence] NO way! I remember wanting to be a doctor, a nurse or a waitress at Howard Johnson's when I was a little girl, but a POLE DANCER? Now, I don't remember that at all!  

The more I looked through old photos, the more evident my aversion to clothing became. 

WHY am I playing milkman with my teenage brother
Get all dressed up in fancy clothes for holidays? Nah. I'm good.

Christmas in New Jersey is
COLD, isn't it?
Where are my clothes???
My cousin Julie looks adorable in her Easter dress.
Then there's me.
Maybe I figured that everyone would be so focused
on the huge cold sore on my lip, nobody would
notice that I was topless.

I did birthday parties, too.

Hey, if the cake was bigger, maybe I could jump
out of it! ;)

Apparently, I was the pioneer of the Wardrobe Malfunction.
Eat your heart out, Janet Jackson!

So, as you can seems that I have a few skeletons in my closet (and naked ones at that!). ;) Who knew that I was on the path to becoming an exhibitionist some day? Somebody up there was looking out for me, though. I figure God must have decided to intervene pretty early. He gave me a sense of humor instead of a sense of rhythm, ensuring that I would never become an exotic dancer (a career that would have certainly brought shame upon my family, but would have been significantly more lucrative). He gave me brains instead of boo...err, voluptuousness. ;) And, he made sure that the Villa gene kicked in at just the right time to keep me out of trouble in middle and high school and make me understand that modesty is the way to go. I can promise you that you'll never catch me on a topless beach, in a thong, nor streaking through the fishbowl that is my house. I may not care much about fashion, but I no longer consider clothing "optional" (much to my family's relief!). :)
With Love and Aloha ~ Nancy