The weather was gorgeous today but they say it's supposed to be cold tomorrow.
I think we may have hit that awkward phase in our relationship.
You know the one.
where we've run out of interesting things to say.
And all I can think of is how you should really cut your nose hairs, or at least shower.
But I'm too ambivalent to even open my mouth to let the words fall off my tongue.
I'm tired of you. And your annoying habits which I found so endearing those first 12 minutes.
Tired of the stained orange Formica countertops.
Tired of the sickly smell of smoke in the house, and dog hair everywhere.
Most of all, I'm glad I went off on this creative tangent because now I actually feel like writing a decent post.
Okay, so it's mostly the fact that my kids wandered upstairs which has opened the doors to my blogger alter-ego, but still. A little drama never hurt anyone.
This weather makes me want to sing and shout and jump and run and well, actually, nap. Or maybe it's just my blog making me want to nap...
Sometimes in life we are faced with decisions. Decisions which take lots of energy and mental fortitude and inner searching. This is not one of those times, for me. It's more a decision between sticking with my 10 year favorite as a pizza topping (pineapple) or branching out...trying something new. I know, I know. It's tough. I've given it almost a full minute of thought. I first discovered the beauty of pineapple sans canadian bacon as a freshman in college....sigh. one of new friends was ecstatic that we would "let" her order pineapple and pepperoni, as her bitchy friends back in POCATELLO FUCKING IDAHO wouldn't agree to such a topping. (damn mormons) So, we tried it. and I fell in love (dozens of times that year, actually, but the longest relationship by about ten years is the pizza topping). So, after a few months I decided to drop the pepperoni (in a feeble attempt to lose the freshman 15 I had blindly stumbled into like a skier in a whiteout). And voila. There you have it folks. The only topping I've ordered on a pizza since 1994.
wow, that'll sure teach me to assume i'm all dried up. an endless well of dribble, that's what we've got here, folks. an infinite supply of rambling. it's a comfortable, secure feeling, isn't it? Like Mcdonald's--it might not be good, but you know exactly what you're going to get. (well, apart from the screwed up orders and "mcnugget" ambiguity...)