I seem to have all my deep thoughts while sitting on the john.

What is this?  Is it pain?  Is it joy?  This holiday time of year can bring many different types of feeling erupting forth.  For some it is a time of renewal, times a-changing along with the new year.  It's funny how a flip of the calendar page can direct your heart and brain into either new directions or further down the hole you stepped in earlier in the year or even the year before.  I'm not sure which way I am going yet.

However, I have finally come to a conclusion.  I am not in charge.  Yes, I said it.  I am not in charge.  I suppose that it should make me feel better to get that off my chest.  Like a weight being lifted.  I no longer have to be the strong one or the one with all the answers.  Now, I know that no one ever said I did either.  There was no rule written somewhere that said "Kimberly is the one in charge here.".  But I always felt like I had to live up to that.  I guess that is my fault for being so so-called "strong willed".  I cast my opinion around and expect people to respect it, obey it like I am Moses/Kimberly/Charlton Heston standing on the mount with two bio-degradable-made-with-100%-recycled-paper tablets stating all that I decree as law.  My way or the highway so to speak.

This past Thanksgiving at my mom's I was talking to one of my many brothers about this son.  Key words here:  His son.  Not mine.  His.  I was telling him how to feed him.  His son is picky. Very.  I, as holier than thou can be, was telling him how to handle the eating situation in his household.  I, in my infinite wisdom, chose not to listen to my brother when he told me the reason behind what he and his son do, is because his son is slightly autistic.  He said it, and I glossed over it with a wave of my hand.  I see my nephew maybe three or four times a year, but apparently I know everything.  If this is how I am to everybody around me, I'm surprised that I have any friends at all.  So, brother, if you are still reading thus far, I am sorry.  I'm not a groveler, but I am very and sincerely sorry for not listening to you and for acting like I know everything.  I and the Lord knows I don't.  And if it makes things any better,  I feel like shit about the whole conversation.  It just took me a few days to realize what a complete jerk I was.  Anyways . . .

How are you, dear reader, at taking advice?  I take it all the time.  Sometimes just so I don't have to think for myself.  Except usually I bash the advice as stupid and wrong and do what I want anyway. But I think that no human being who has ever lived in this world has ever taken good advice. Millions of people, however, have gladly, and gratefully taken bad advice, foolish advice, pop advice, and glib advice. Why is this?  No doubt it's partially because of the perversity of human nature.  This notwithstanding, the other part, I believe, is because of the sanctimonious, constipated, pompous, smug, and self-righteous way that good advice is usually given.  (somehow I see myself here)

So from this day forth instead of preaching what I think is right, I will change my ways.  From this day forward, I am going to cleverly couch everything I deem to be good advice within a deviously designed delivery system, i.e., humor, misdirection, and of course lots and lots of bullshit.  I have come to believe that good advice, or bad, like ragtag, weatherbeaten human wisdom of any kind, can only be delivered or received obliquely, accidentally, intuitively.  Few of us want the hard truth these days anyway.  Mankind has never wanted to deal with that.  So if you want a piece that still makes you think you are a good Christian even though you own ten homes and fifty cars, you've come to the wrong blog.

I and my blog are turning over a new leaf.  Catch ya later.