I don't really know why I'm writing this. I don't know precisely what this post should be about. Odd, I know, given the fact that I am typing this and it's turning into a post of its own one word at a time. I guess... no, I don't guess, I know that I need to write. And let the chips fall where they may. As 'Days of our Lives' dramatic as that sounds... I'm not in a particularly neon pink place at the moment... it's been a tough couple of weeks. Think Survivor meets The Apprentice meets Mean Girls . You see, I'm a words person. It's both a strength and a weakness. Do I remember every dirty look, childhood 'lie belt' smack or Standard 5 'disco' I wasn't invited to? No. Do I remember every hurtful/judgemental phrase ever said about me or to me? Yes. Every word. Fun Fact: My grandmother telling 14-year old me that I was 'a well-padded girl' still gets my butt to gym on a Monday morning. Wanna build me u