Woke up. Put on robe. Let dog out. Made coffee. Filled coffee cup. Walked upstairs to get in shower. Made it four stairs. Fell. Coffee flew everywhere. Cursing begins. Legs start bleeding and swelling. 7:00am. Monday.
I'm just Mandi, not Amanda. It's spelled with an "i" because my mom doesn't like to write the letter "y" - and no, I'm not kidding. I grew up in a funeral home. Like, we lived there. All the time. No, I wasn't scared of dead people (as my dad says, "it's the live ones that will get ya") and yes, it was exactly like that girl on My Girl (sans an adorable Macaulay Culkin best friend and weird hypochondriac behavior). I have one husband (he's my favorite person) and two beautiful step-daughters. I lead a sugar free life, because sugar makes my thighs the size of Hulk Hogan's. I am frequently late and I typically wear a lot of eyeliner. I love every kind of animal. I was raised in a small town, and when I say small, I mean it - unlike my other friends who call their town "small" and it has a Walmart in it. I love Diet Coke and peanut butter. I do not eat anything with an orange flavor or raw mushrooms because both of those things are, well, disgusting. I don't like getting my hair cut, and I attribute this to my mom cutting it all off when I was four. (I looked like a boy.) Charleston is my favorite city on Earth, but New York comes in second. I like politics and writing and fashion and reality television (I think this makes me well-rounded, thankyouverymuch).
"The Tightrope" began in 2008 (over on Blogger), and the name sprung from some good ole country music lyrics that fit my life.
thetightropeblog.com 
is that a haiku?