...and then she said

You know when you have nothing to write about? At all? But your mind keeps blabbering? Loudly? And sometimes you laugh? Out loud? Then you realize you don't hear anyone else laughing? And you hate when people end every sentence like it's a question? Even though most of them aren't?

That's pretty much me this week. So buckle up, pumpkin. I'm just going to toss out things here and there. I'll smile and probably laugh because I sometimes find myself charming. If you don't, I'll poke at you and get in your face and make you.

But then you'll probably fall in love with me and things will get weird and a little messy and before I know it, you'll have gone on your way and I'll be back to talking to myself again. But you'll find yourself trying not to say my name at inopportune times. I know.

Before that happens, though, just let me get these things out of my head:

• I've developed a rather unhealthy, simmering hatred for people who back in park. This is most predominant in the school parking lot every afternoon. I don't know if I'm mad because everyone wants to make the fastest getaway, or because I simply haven't brushed the dust off this talent in many years to know if I can even do it in a mini. This anger I feel is stupid, but seriously, just park the damn car. If you do this, however, I don't hate you.
• I can parallel park like a wing man waiting for my lowlife boyfriend to make a dash from the bank, money flying out of the Hefty trash bags and screaming at me to "gun it, baby!" like nobody's business, though.
• My family has not taken a real vacation since before my husband and I actually became "a family." If you're doing the math, that's an insanely long time. Last night, the word "vacation" got whispered and I wanted to laugh. Then cry. Because our "vacation" is a dollar amount on the credit card statement due this coming week and I've been trying to figure out how that's going to get covered. If you close your eyes, kids, and listen close, you can pretend you're at the beach.
• But I'd never vacation at a beach. Things live in the water. Therefore, I don't go in the water.
• The last time I was at a beach, it was in La Jolla, I was pregnant with my oldest, and a homeless man approached my husband and me, touched my protruding belly a lot and carried on about blessings and love, and then asked us to get in a circle together and pray. Naive Midwesterners that we are, we actually did. And I didn't check my pockets or my bag after our prayer circle broke up. I'm just that naive. Use it to your advantage.
• Speaking of water, we got a survey stuck in our front door from a water quality company. At the bottom it asks "Is there anything you would change about your water?" I intend to write: "My water is a selfish lover who often sneaks out in the middle of the night to return to it's family. This makes me sad. It promises it will leave it's faucet and case of little water bottles, but I don't know that I believe it any more. It also never pays for anything when we go out. Do you think I'm being used?"
• In addition to being sweetly naive, I'm pretty gullible. I know you're going to fall in love with me after this post, but don't tell me you love me.
• Eh, who am I kidding. Tell me and tell me often. It's taken miles and lines to learn the right from the wrong. I keep you hanging on. Like Night Ranger did when I saw them in concert for free many years ago and the entire night, the audience did nothing but yell "Sister Christian" until they finally played it as the last song of the night. Like Night Ranger wouldn't play "Sister Christian." Please! Cripes, if I had a band, I'd play "Sister Christian."
• How many other blogs do you think plugged Night Ranger twice in one post this week? While I'm at it, I might as well give some of the love to those Damn Yankees, too.
• I'd also do just about anything right now for some peanut M&M's.
• When "Blue's Clues" comes on television, I pause wherever I am in the house and listen for the voice. If it's Steve, I'm happy and will rush to watch with my youngest. I love and miss Steve like he left me yesterday, telling me we needed a little break, and yeah, don't wait for me because I can't be the one who holds you back, baby. Joe? I gave him a chance. Too virginal. Too needy. Just doesn't get how to make me happy. Refusing to stick to the program by not wearing Steve's trusty green shirt? Assertive and bold. Still not doing it for me, though. I'm admitting here that I've watched our old "Blue's Clues" videotapes as if it were porn. Yeah, I'll sit down on that thinking chair and think, think, think. 'Cause when I've used my mind and taken a step out of time, I can do anything that I wanna do. Here's a clue. They come in a pair and when I'm sitting in that chair, they're eye level.

Ok? Do you think I've babbled enough? You love me now, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. Don't fall in love with a dreamer, baby. Especially one who can't remember her dreams. Unless they involve apes dressed in three piece suits.

But you're going to leave me now. I know it. Maybe without leaving a comment, to which I say, "What's up with that?!"

Ah well, we'll always have this post...and a little more Blades/Shaw love. Yeah, your kinda love make a man outta me.