I've given in. I refuse to get a twitter (I also refuse to capitalize "twitter," since I don't consider it a proper noun) and there are too many ideas running around in my head begging to be let out. If I posted that many statuses on Facebook, I would probably fall victim to a good ol' fashioned lynch mob. Complete with pitchforks. And truth be told, it's almost 2 AM and I can't sleep again, so I'm hoping having an outlet for some of these thoughts will help with the whole insomnia thing.
So. Blogging. Here we go.
I suppose I ought to explain the gabble up there in the address bar. "Gabhar Mire" is Gaelic for "goat crazy." Which, if you know me, is kind of a given. There is nothing sane about my life passion. It does, however, keep me sane (oddly enough), especially after a day of listening to hidebound theoretical professors teach in a theoretical classroom packed with 400 other students, three of which I might actually know. There is something profoundly rewarding about coming home to a bunch of faces who have been waiting ALL DAY to see you and think you are the best thing since sweet cob. Even if they're goat faces. It keeps my inner egotistical maniac in check.
The title also gives a nod to the Irish blood in me. There isn't much of it (although my great-grandmother was a blooded, off-the-boat O'Brien) but I look it. And I'm absurdly proud of that fact. Tourists in Ireland were asking me for directions.
Well, I guess this is a start. I'm sure I'll come up with something entertaining to post tomorrow. (I mean, today. Bogeys.) Maybe once I figure out how to add photos to blog posts, I'll start introducing my "girls." And boys - can't forget the boys. But for now...good night. (Good morning? Oh well.)
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