i confess; in a rubbermaid container, beneath a layer of dust and stored under the bed – between the dried remains of the first corsage i ever received and my mickey mouse ears from disneyland - there are a few sappy love letters from boys from back in my high school days. i confess this because they are the only ones i felt worthy of keeping. why? they were probably the most sincere. those that i received later in life, in the grown up years… well, those are gone. folded, spindled, mutilated, maimed, damaged, bowdlerized, butchered, crushed, cut to pieces, defaced, disable, expurgated, mangled, ravaged and burned.

(i had some pain in the past – it doesn’t show, does it?)

the ones from the school years, though, the last time i read them – sometime in the last decade – they still made me smile. feel a little warm and fuzzy. shoot, had i had a glass of wine and some eighties love songs playing, probably would have cost me a fortune in long distance calls. good thing for me, and my bf, that i didn’t, eh?

oh, now… *his* love letters… well, those are keepers. but i digress… keep your old love letters, the ones that matter to you, because even when you are at your happiest in life, should you need a little pick-me-up, they’re good for that. to remember how special you really must be to have inspired such words from others.

bank statements, on the other hand, those can just go. why? think about it. those times in your life when you had no money, but now you do? nothing but bad thoughts there, amiright? and just the opposite… don’t have a lot of money now, but maybe you used to? doesn’t make the old heart warm, now, does it? or maybe you’ve been fortunate enough to have had a steady income for the past decade, and well, good for you. but when you’re looking back and seeing the $850 you spent on the water pump for your car or the $4500 for your kids braces (and then he never wore the retainer!) or the $1200 for the tickets to hawaii that you never got to use because your grandma passed away and you had to go to the funeral or, or, you see where i’m going with this, right? and trust me – worst case scenario, you get audited and the irs wants them? the bank can get them for you. that’s what they get all those ridiculous fees for. customer service.

now, for one that hit home just this morning (when we got up at 6 to go for the first bike ride in a month)…

Stretch.

if you’re on twitter and you have a blog, chances are you’ve heard of #blogchat. someone put a bug in my ear about it awhile back, and i’ve followed it for several weeks. the problem was, as i followed along, i realized that the majority of the people involved each sunday night were generally two kinds of people; bloggers that blogged for money, or bloggers that blogged for some work-related reason. i saw very few instances of people that blogged just for the fun of it like i do, so i wasn’t really relating to the conversation very well. and since it wasn’t applying to me, i respectfully butted out, and just watched and tried to learn something.

then this week, the topic was supposed to be something i could relate to; whether or not you blog anonymously and why. i thought, hey! i have a reason to join the conversation finally (yay!) and so i did. i added a thought or two. i think, in total, 5 tweets. but the conversation was going off course, there was this whole side conversation about which phones/service people use (frankly, i think because the #blogchat founder, mack collier, admittedly wasn’t really paying attention) and so it got boring quickly, so i left early. next morning, i noticed two things: 1) i suddenly had 20 new followers and 2) mack had given links to not only the transcript of the #blogchat, but also to the list of participants.

i did what i always do when i get new followers, i went to check them out, see where they’re from, what they talk about. and i noticed a disturbing trend; 19 of the 20 of them all had the exact same most recent people they were all following. and all of them also had incredibly stupid-high follower/following counts. additionally, all of their most recent tweets were eerily similar; stuff like “how to increase your number of followers in 2 hours” or “get your blog’s seo noticed” etc. etc. so i did what i always do when i find that i’m being followed by shallow-one-hit-wonder look-how-many-people-follow-me types, i reported them for spam. not just because they followed me, but because they clearly went and followed all 200 and some people that participated in #blogchat. in other words, whether they had participated or not, they just harvested the list for followers. which i find to be a rude practice. and i said so:

okay #blogchat people, i really don’t appreciate the influx of spammy followers the morning after i participate in #blogchat. rude.

now, realize of course, that i only got 140 characters in which to voice my complaint, yes? but it wasn’t just a few minutes when mack decided to respond: “@TWBiotch Why are you spamming the #blogchat hashtag with your complaints? Why not spam the people you think are spamming you?” giving him the benefit of the doubt, i replied, “@MackCollier i’m not spamming the #blogchat hashtag & resent the implication; but i can’t help but notice all the ppl i just reported were all following the same participants of blogchat from last night. mine was a warning/complaint. calm down.” which, i thought, was a pretty good explanation. he disagreed. he said, “So you reported the people you didn’t like, then decided to spam the people that have no idea what you are talking about. Congrats” now, that last little dig, the “Congrats” pissed me off. i could hear the patronizing tone of voice behind it. hell, i use it all the time. still, i tried (really, i did!) to take the high road. i said, “i was simply pointing it out, because obviously what WAS a good blogging tool has become a spam farm. lighten the %*$! up.” but not mack. maybe the air is too thin up on the high road? i dunno. but he decided to get another dig in on me, “Well it’s still a good tool for most of us. Maybe your usage of the tool attracted the wrong people.” oh, so it’s just me? and what about the other hundreds of people that also suddenly got a bunch of $hit followers? i asked, “if it did, then maybe the other 100 or so of the other users they spammed are also the “wrong” type. what’s your problem w/me?” i again attempted to explain my position, “i just dumped 18 followers that all added me beg. @ 9 pm 7/5. i appreciate real fans, not follow-me/i’ll-follow-you spammers. i thought the whole point of blogchat was to be a community of bloggers, not just increase our follower counts.”

somehow, somewhere, no matter how i tried to explain my position, he just kept missing the point and assuming i was complaining about #blogchat. he stayed on the defense, “You have 100 followers now, how big was this ‘influx’ & how are those followers hurting you?” and in response to my explanation of the type of followers i appreciate, “Ok there’s an easy way to handle that, just don’t follow them back. Sorry but that’s life on Twitter, #blogchat has zip to do w it, Try participating in other Twitter chats & see what happens. I honestly think your avatar/name likely attracts them somewhat.” again, blaming me, blaming my name/avatar. again, ignoring my clearly stated point that it wasn’t *just* me, it was hundreds of people that this happened to. he went on (and finally stated what his problem was), “By participating in twitter chats, you pick up followers. No *my* problem is you saying the #blogchat community is ‘rude’” – which, you can see, clearly shows that he wasn’t really listening to me this whole time, was he? so i replied, “but blogchat was clearly where they came from all at once like that. i get 1 or 2 spammers a day, not 20 & it was more than me, again, i was attempting to point out a problem, not create 1, as you seem to think i have. didn’t realize u could own a hashtag.” i said, “i think your whole problem is that i actually complained about it & they didn’t; maybe they don’t care who follows them. i do. i’ve followed along on blogchat for weeks, but only actually jumped in 3-4 times for the 1st time last night. then, tada, spam.” and he replied, “So again, don’t follow them back. Problem solved!” (still missing my point) so i answered, “obviously i’m not; but i’m not going to encourage their behavior by letting them follow me, either & neither should others. AGAIN, it wasn’t just me they did it to, so it’s clear what they’re doing. tell you what, you tweet ur way, i’ll do it mine.” and to his saying i was calling the “community ‘rude’ i said, “i said the ppl that spammed the followers of #blogchat were rude! sorry it wasn’t PERFECTLY clear in just 140 characters. damn!” but he wouldn’t give up. he’s a bulldog, that mack. he said, “I think you are creating a lot of unnecessary work for yourself. If you dont follow back in a day or 2, they will unfollow YOU. And it would suck to report someone as a spammer if they weren’t, right?” which, i’ll be frank, i read as a double entendre – one, that i was wrong in saying i was spammed and two, that he could just as easily report me for it. and i said as much, “your veiled implication that i’m a spammer is unwarranted. if i wanted to spam blogchat, i’d be hashtagging it all the time & it’s not unecessary work if i actually give a rat’s ass who follows me. if u don’t, good for u. ur life is easier then, hmm?”

after which, finally, i thought he was going to relent. he said, “Nevermind, you’re right, you do it your way, I’ll do it mine.” and i said, “thank you, that was my plan. glad i now have your permission (not that i needed it).” which, apparently, still ruffled his feathers. he said, “Dear God honey please stop being a drama queen. Seriously.” which, actually, ruffled mine. not just  anyone can call me honey. i said, where, exactly, was i being a drama queen? and don’t call me honey, we’re not that close.” he finally (thankfully) stopped talking. to me. he was still talking out the side of his mouth to others, apparently. others that, like him, just weren’t getting it: @chrisyates11 said, “We love everyone i think!? RT @MackCollier: @TWBiotch *my* problem is you saying the #blogchat community is ‘rude’” – see, selective listening. they went on,“We just tripled your followers list u should b thrilled RT @TWBiotch #blogchat don’t appreciate spammy followers after #blogchat. rude. @ArtseyC @MackCollier not sure why she was complaining about followers she only had 103 I think #blogchat helped her so she should luv us!” chris is not sure what i’m complaining about, because they don’t care about who follows them, and they’re not in on this whole conversation, either. then @sue_anne had to jump in, “@chrisyates11 @MackCollier I’ve noticed that people with a small number of followers get antsy when people they don’t know follow them.” oh, for the love of all that’s holy, people, i wasn’t antsy. i was raising a red flag! i was serving up a warning! still, mack encouraged them, “@chrisyates11 Yeah if anyone thinks we are rude, not sure what they are looking at ;) #blogchat” and “@sue_anne @chrisyates11 But why get upset over ’spammers’ following you to get a follow back? Just ignore em and they unfollow in few days” still not conceding to my point in the least. and, finally, @amycanada just had to put in her two-cents worth, “@chrisyates11 @MackCollier She skeered of us. Fear = anger sometimes. Once she (if she) gets to know us she’ll LUV us.” which makes me just stop, blink a few times and say, what the %#*& are you talking about? still, i tried to set her (and her hillbilly language) straight, i said, “@ArtseyC i’m not scared of $hit; i wasn’t mad @ #blogchat, i was mad @ spammers, i don’t need a high follower # to feel superior.” it was an exercise in futility. she just replied this morning, “@TWBiotch Well, then, darlin’ call out those who spammed you, not hundreds of people who have nothing to do with you or your spam. #blogchat” clearly also not paying attention. *sigh*

*facepalm* i guess, just for $hits and grins, since they apparently all think i’m the spammer now anyway, i could just start hashtagging all my tweets with #blogchat for all eternity. but, no. too low a road. in fact, i’ve got it all out of my system now.

*we now return you to your irregularly unscheduled blog posts, already in session.*

i woke this morning to find that i had, in the tiniest of ways, aided a friend in her path to realisation that it really is okay to admit that some people suck, and to stand firm in your beliefs. and i’m glad i could help. i hope she sticks with it. we all spend too much of our lives trying to figure out how to fix whatever it is we think is “wrong” with us (the things we are insulted for) instead of cultivating and appreciating all the beauty we possess (the things we are complimented for). think about it; if at some point in your life, someone told you that you were smart, and someone else told you that you were stupid, which one stuck with you longer? it was the insult, wasn’t it? but now ask yourself this; if you’re so stupid, then why did someone else say you were smart? now, delve into this line of reasoning a little deeper. who was it that said you were stupid? someone who most likely doesn’t mean nearly as much to you as the person that said you were smart? so why let the stupid remark stick? what purpose is it serving you?

as for me, it’s an ongoing struggle, i admit. but the way that i blog and the way that i interact with the world in general, at least, as i have in these last few years, has helped me tremendously. i think, because i let myself get worn down to the lowest common denominator of myself, i had nowhere to go but back to the beginning, so i worked my ass off at making sure that was a strong base. i figured, hey, i may as well get something out of all that rebuilding. so i determined that my base needed to be my own sense of self. the very things i didn’t want to let go of ever again. and so i haven’t.

now, to tie this back to the u.s., and on the fourth no less - simple. we seem to think, as a nation, that when someone insults us, the best response is to insult them back. like baseball players kicking dust up on each other.  and how’s that been working for us so far? so we need to go back. we need to remember what makes us so incredibly great, and focus on that, instead of letting others’ insults about our greatness get us all pissed off and defensive. it’s one thing to defend yourself when under attack. it’s quite another to somehow thing you need to “defend your honor” when insulted. after all, if you have so much honor, why does it need defending in the first place?

all that “patriotic” chest thumping just embarrasses me as an american. when are we going to realize that citizens of all countries for the most part all think they live in the greatest nations in the world? and why does it have to bother us so much that they’re just as right as we are?

so, celebrate your freedom today; not your “greatness” – but your greatness sans quotation marks. makes a huge difference.

you’ve heard that expression, right? “keeping up with the joneses”? let it go! what’s it prove? anything? nothing. and chances are it doesn’t make you one bit happier. if there’s one thing that i’ve learned, and have had to learn over and over and over again, is that i’m the only one that can make me happy. not stuff. not things. not other people.

surround yourself with people and things that make you happy – don’t go out and get things or hang around certain people because it makes other people happy, or it impresses other people. all that can do is hollow out your insides. make you shallow.

find your own depth. jealousy is a trait of the shallow. i’ve known many people in my past that have just *had* to have the latest whatever-it-may-be as soon as it was available. and what did that get himthem? well, a buttload of debt, for one thing. more importantly, a lack of respect. and if someone else happened to beat him them to whatever-it-was? oh, the anger. oh, the greenness with envy. so where’s his their happiness now? now that he they has have all these things? gone. it would have never lasted anyway.

as for me? i’m happy. do i have everything i want? well… maybe not. but do i have everything i need? absolutely. and i’m jealous of no one. it’s a good place to be.

this one’s big, people. h-u-g-e!! so this is one of those moments when i’ll walk close to the edge of saying something personal. now, fortunately for the rest of the world, i can’t say as i’ve ever been accused of being reckless with someone else’s heart. well, maybe once… but i’ll come back to that. suffice to say it was justified.

i have, however, on many occasions, put up with people that were reckless with mine. note the use of the plural. because you’d think after the first time, i’d've learned my lesson. but i didn’t. i let it happen, again. and what adds insult to injury is, the second time around, it was even worse than the first. and it took me for-ev-er to figure out that i didn’t have to put up with it. or maybe not so much that i didn’t have to put up with it. i mean, i knew that. but how to get out of the situation that was causing the pain.

hence the reason i could have possibly been accused of being reckless with their heart. because i finally – finally got my $#&% together and got the hell outta dodge. and, somehow, they didn’t see it coming. though they should have. i’m just sayin’.

so look, i know it’s hard to make heads or tails outta this without the details, and for that, i’m sorry. but what matters is this: you only have one heart – be true to it. it’s not trite. it’s true. you have to let yourself love yourself. it’s the only way you’ll ever survive in this crazy, messed up world.

oh, and…

 Floss.

i’ve heard them (whoever they are) say that if you don’t, bad things can happen. fatal things. so, just do it.

and then there’s checking my email. because god knows, every day brings the chance that there will be an email from mom. so that’s pretty scary.

but other things, scary things… stuff i’ve told myself i should do, because it’s what makes life interesting. recently, i was offered the opportunity to go skydiving. at first, i said i’d do it. then, as the day drew closer, i started to chicken out. finally, the night before, i was losing sleep. fortunately (i guess) the day was postponed due to weather. i was glad. but sad, too. because part of me really wants to do it. the other part? scared outta my mind. i’m hoping the former wins, next time the opportunity arises.

there’s a shop in market street called lululemon athletica, and on tuesdays they offer yoga. used to be pilates. i’ve never done both. i’d like to do either. i have the time. i can easily fit it in my schedule. but do i? no. i wimp out, every tuesday, without fail. i’ve managed to put it off, in one form or another, for nearly thirty weeks now. craziness!

so i think this one, really, i need to take to heart. i need to rethink my self-stated bravery and actually do something. everyday. that scares me. really.

and you should too. i promise, it’ll make your life more interesting. no one ever gets to the end and says, “well, i’m glad i never did one thing that would constitute calling myself brave. that’s a relief.”

sing.

…as for that one, that’s easy. in the car, in the shower, at my desk, watching tv, drying my hair, folding the laundry… everywhere except where mom wants me to – which is on a stage on karaoke night somewhere with her. singing i’ve got covered.

this one’s pretty easy for me. in a two-way street sort of way. i’ll explain. i worry all the time. seriously. i worry i’m going bald. i worry i’m going crazy. i worry my wrists are way, way worse off than i think they are, and one day very soon i won’t be able to write legibly any more and will be forced to only type for the rest of my life…which will mean that eventually i’ll be typing with my eyes. cause they can do that $#*& now. i’m just sayin’. i worry i’ll have no retirement, i worry that i’ll never see the world, or at the very least, never leave this continent. i worry i don’t get enough sleep. that i get too much sleep. that i paid too much for a mattress that is already letting me down, less than three years later. *sigh* you see where this is going.

frankly, it’d drive me, and my bf, insane. if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s much, much, much better at not worrying than i am. and from the very beginning of our relationship, he starting trying to teach me how to not worry. and whenever i am, he gently guides me back to reality. a gentle nudge that usually sounds a whole lot like the algebra and the bubble gum analogy.

and he’s right. i know he’s right. and you know what? i – and everyone else – would be a lot better off if we could all remember that. worrying doesn’t change the future. it just takes away from the present. does that mean we should all float aimlessly through life, that nothing bad is gonna happen? no. but it does mean that no matter how bad (or not so bad) something that may or may not happen to us might or might not be, worrying about it isn’t going to help. because it’s always going to be the thing you didn’t worry about.

that thing that blindsides you at 4:00 on some idle tuesday.

happy tuesday! go forth and don’t worry!

i know, i know… as my mom said in an email to me this morning (in reply to my email, the first one i’d sent her in a week) “yeah, it’s been since like christmas since i’ve heard from you. yeah, yeah. hardy-har. you know, i’m not on a schedule here. it’s my blog, and i’ll blog if i want to.

well, that’s not entirely accurate. i want to blog way more often than i do. so i guess it’s more accurate to say, it’s my blog and i’ll procrastinate on blogging while i take care of things that pay the bills if i want to… but i digress.

second today in my series of advice that i’ve given, taken and ignored…

i think of the above stanza of the song pretty often. in relation to myself, i think, ‘ehm, no.’ i mean, when i look back on pictures of me 20 years ago, the first thing i think is ‘daaaayuuummm… no wonder i was a virgin all through school. can we say unibrow?’ no, but seriously, the one part of this i do try to take for myself is the last statement, about being fat. i know i’m not. not really. sure, i could stand to lose a few, most of us could. but as i just mentioned to the bf the other day, hey – i’m still in single digit sizes. which, honestly? i wasn’t always in. so i gotta find that precious balance between not being so hard on myself, and not convincing myself that just because i’m not fat doesn’t mean i couldn’t end up fat. and it’s not necessarily that being fat scares me… it’s the health risks that go along with it. what it means to your heart, your joints, your respritory system, your back, your colon and, some would say most of all, your mind – your self worth, your self value. you don’t have to be stuck up. you don’t have to be a diva. but you do have to love yourself. because you can’t love someone else until you do.

and as for the rest of this part of the song? i think of it every time i see girls that are currently in those random, awkward stages we have all gone through and survived. the girls that sit quietly in the corner of the library, reading books about third-world countries and wondering what they could be doing about it. the girls that at the tender ages of 13, 14, 16… think that they have to paint themselves another face, because the one they have is so inherently flawed. that’s your mind’s eye, sweetie. not the rest of the world’s.

but please, don’t misunderstand. there’s a huge chasm of a gap between teaching girls self-worth and empowerment and puffing them up with endless praise and princess tiaras. one will teach them they can do anything, and don’t need anyone’s approval. the other will teach them they can do nothing without it getting someone’s approval.

and seeing as how this is quite possibly the most fabulous collection of unsolicited advice ever assembled and subsequently put to music, i thought i’d start here, and work my way through it. so to start things off, here is all of the advice in it’s entirety, and i’ll begin breaking it down in my next post:

Wear sunscreen.  If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.  The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.  I will dispense this advice now.

 Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth — oh, never mind — you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.  But trust me in twenty years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.  You are not as fat as you imagine.  Don’t worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.  The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindsides you at 4:00 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

 Do one thing every day that scares you – sing.  Don’t be reckless with other peoples’ hearts and don’t put up with people that are reckless with yours.  Floss.  Don’t waste your time on jealousy.  Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, the race is long.  But in the end – it’s only with yourself.  Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults.  If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. 

 Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.  Stretch.  Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.  Some of the most interesting 40 year-olds still don’t.  Get plenty of counseling.  Be kind to your knees – you’ll miss them when they’re gone. 

 Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t.  Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t.  Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75^th wedding anniversary.  Whatever you do don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either, your choices are half chance.  So are everybody else’s.  Enjoy your body.  Use it every way you can.  Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.  Dance.  Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.  Read the directions – even if you don’t follow them.  Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

 Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.  Be nice to your siblings, they’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.  Understand that friends come and go, but to a precious few you should hold on.  Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, ‘cause the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

 Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.  Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.  Travel.  Accept certain inalienable truths; prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old.  And when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.  Respect your elders.  Don’t expect anyone else to support you.  Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out. 

 Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.  Be careful who’s advise you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.  Advise is a form of nostalgia – dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.   But trust me on the sunscreen. 

i’ll tell you this much – i haven’t “tanned” since i was sixteen, and considering how dark-like-a-native i know i can get, i’m pretty freakin’ lily white. but i’m also skin-cancer-free, and hardly frecked, and definitely not leathery. so there’s that. ;o) more to come…

oh yeah…

cause i skipped kindergarten.

anyway….

another thought i had was a song, actually. you know – “everybody’s free (to wear sunscreen)”. the ultimate graduation song. well, of course it’s not really age-appropriate for kindergarteners. better for college. high school, anyway. point is, the song was in my head, which gave me an idea for a series of blog posts. which i was going to start on, till i went to start writing a post a few hours ago only to discover that i couldn’t access my blog, because it was apparently down, so while waiting for hostgator to fix the mysterious problem, i got distracted and checked my email, which included a cute little forward from a friend of mine, which was about what happens when you ask 26 first graders to come up with their own endings to well-known proverbs… which of course isn’t kindergartners, but i’ve already changed the subject here, haven’t you been following along? *sheesh* so all that said… i’ll start on my series sometime this weekend, and in the meantime, enjoy some random thoughts plucked from the minds of first graders, because seriously, they cracked me up!

1. Don’t change horses…     until they stop running.
2. Strike while the…     bug is close.
3. It’s always darkest before…     Daylight Saving Time.
4. Never underestimate the power…     of termites.
5. You can lead a horse to water but…     How?
6. Don’t bite the hand that…     looks dirty.
7. No news is…     impossible
8. A miss is as good as a…     Mr.
9. You can’t teach an old dog new…     Math
10. If you lie down with dogs, you’ll…     stink in the morning.
11. Love all, trust…     Me.
12. The pen is mightier than…     the pigs.
13. An idle mind is…     the best way to relax.
14. Where there’s smoke there’s…     pollution.
15. Happy the bride who…     gets all the presents.
16. A penny saved is…     not much.
17. Two’s company, three’s…     the Musketeers.
18. Don’t put off till tomorrow what…     you put on to go to bed.
19. Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and…     You have to blow your nose.
20. There are none so blind as…     Stevie Wonder.
21. Children should be seen and not…     spanked or grounded.
22. If at first you don’t succeed…     get new batteries.
23. You get out of something only what you…     See in the picture on the box
24. When the blind lead the blind…      get out of the way.
25. A bird in the hand is…     going to poop on you.
26. Better late than…     pregnant