tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40890336446983425342011-07-31T01:58:50.422-07:00The rose colored lenses gave me a headache..Cadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519027152726632830noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4089033644698342534.post-65714104238230395102009-11-09T08:18:00.001-08:002009-11-09T08:18:43.081-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; ">I am a second generation Native South Floridian. This may not sound that exciting. However, when my mom speaks with her southern accent, and is asked where she is from, I love telling people that she was born and raised right here in South Florida. She was the fifteenth baby born at our local hospital. I come from an interesting family. I was a surprise, conceived on New Year's Eve. My fifteen and thirteen year old brothers were dumbfounded and mortified by the fact that my parents were still...well..you know. I was essentially a supped up only child. By this, I mean, I had all the perks of being an only, plus all the perks of having two older brothers who dragged me everywhere. And probably used me a little to win over the ladies. This unique family set up, coupled with the fact that each one of it's members are characters, explains why I see and view the world through pansy colored glasses. Being the youngest, I often had to speak up, speak my mind, and speak quickly. This meant that I didn't have a lot of time to formulate pretty observations. A pansy symbolizes thoughtful recollection. My thoughtful recollections are what they are.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4089033644698342534-6571410423823039510?l=pansycoloredglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519027152726632830noreply@blogger.com5