Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya.

Hrrrrmmmm....

What to say in an introductory blog... Hello my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. Muhahahaha. Obviously I spent waaaaayyyy too long working in that video store :) and I loved almost every second of it. Not everyone gets to go to work every day and shoot the shit about movies and video games, two of my most favorite of favorite things (right next to raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens). Though the job I took to replace the video store works my brain/intellect way more, I still miss the busy Friday nights of up-selling popcorn bundles to every single person in line. My absolute favorite was when we were raising funds for sick kids in hospitals. Nothing like laying the guilt on the the late night drunks coming in :) "Would you like to donate to the sick children so that they don't die? I'll give you this sticker if you do." Corrupt sounding but it's all for a good cause, and it worked.

My most recent job position has been that of "Mommy", which I refuse to talk about in any length in this blog, as I am trying to treat this as my escape from the wonders of Mommyville (as Christine calls it). Though I love my daughter to death, and I'm oh so happy that she's here and healthy and in my life, I still need time to be me. Because I'm Super Awesome (and not arrogant in the slightest).

One of my biggest passions in life (actually if you ask my Super Awesome hubby, he'd probably say it's my biggest passion) is books, so you'll most probably catch me talking, sorry blogging, about them a whole lot. I LOVE the way that they create images out of words, tell stories, are passed from generation to generation, and the way that they smell. Yep, that’s right, I’m a book sniffer :) Right now I’m reading a book about how stories are passed down through generations and how parallels can be seen across Greek, Roman, Biblical, and Native American mythology (amongst others). Sometimes I find myself wondering why I never spent my time in university studying literature, and then I remind myself that I like to interpret things the way that I see them, and not the way that someone else dictates (thank-you Mr. Ebeson and your color coded pens for forever ruining English Lit. class for me).

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