'she has trouble acting normal when she's nervous'

subtitle: More inane facts about me which shall now and forever serve as a means of filling in the gaps when I've been too busy/tired/boring to write scintillating tales of mirth and merriment, but scratch those other two options because mostly I'm just a very boring person as evidenced by the fact that, well, I'm too boring to think of specific examples of how boring I am. Suffice to say I'm pretty damn boring.

Anyway, on with the show!

• Last week I offered to have sex with The Cheesecake Factory after my Tool Man and I had our first meal ever there and I gasped in horror when the bill arrived, as though it had been placed on the table by a corpse and the words "I must kill you now" were scrawled in blood next to the price for my glass of iced tea. I assumed it was either a typographical error or I needed to show the restaurant a good time since it had given me dinner and all. In the end, I'm pretty glad Cheesecake Factory rebuked my offer because it's portion(s) is way too big.
• I've never sent a text message to someone in my entire life. Oh, sure, there was that one time I thought I sent one to Fade To Numb that included words like "zombies," "don't look them in the eyes" and "come to your hotel room," but he insists it never arrived. Or did it? For all I know, zombies could have intercepted it and all this time, I've been talking to a version of Numby that (fingers crossed) could do the Thriller dance (which would be awesome, btw). Maybe he was just scared I'd actually come to his hotel room, so he lied. Hmmm. Something to ponder, too. Anyway, the point is, I'm not technologically savvy.
• I also have large fingers. This probably impedes my ability to send text messages more than having an archaic phone. It's also probably another reason Cheesecake Factory told me it should be going when I made my offer.
• When I look at other peoples' wedding photos, I have an overwhelming desire to get married again. About seven out of ten times those thoughts involve marrying my Tool Man. Also, we could use new towels and a larger crock pot.
• Anyway, if looking at wedding photos can give me that sweet feeling, you can pretty much imagine what looking at photos of new babies does to me.
• I also want to get married again so I can do something cool like this couple who rocked their wedding entrance. The first time I watched this clip, I actually cried. PMS much?
• I also cried at least once during the last three episodes of the third season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. "Why don't you look at me the way Angel looks at Buffy?" I asked my Tool Man. "You mean pained?" he responded. "I mean with a love that makes his non-beating heart ache," I said. "We've been married almost 15 years," he said. "What more do you want."
• Seriously? New towels. And a honeymoon that doesn't include the words Wisconsin and/or Dells. (no offense, Wisconsin)
• I've been overusing the phrase "You old galoot" a bit lately.
• I think buying new underwear is akin to OD'ing on antidepressants for boosting a good mood.
• In case you weren't sure, when I look at photos of new babies, I get a tiny bit crazed and the sound of eggs releasing from within the recesses of my body is deafening to the point where if you were showing me a photo of your new baby and asked "Isn't he/she adorable?" I'd look at you and respond "It is a nice day, but I think it's a bit too windy for a ride in a convertible."
• I get irritated by drivers in front of me who start to brake for an impending red light while upwards of 30 feet from the traffic signal.
• I also get irritated that McDonald's charges nearly $1.50 for an ice cream cone and then hands you a microscopic sample of their frozen treat when you pull up to the drive-thru window after a tough day and words like "portion control" and "part of a sensible eating plan" run snidely out of my head when I think of the half gallon of ice cream I could have bought at the grocery store for $1.50.
• Did you catch that part where I said I was boring? I'm also very clearly lame.
• Not lame? Hanson. I am never, ever being facetious when I speak of my great love for Hanson. I'd not be surprised if my neighbors put their house up for sale after seeing me dance in my kitchen to Where's The Love Saturday night. Four times. In a row.
• I just spent 30 minutes watching various clips of people dancing to Thriller so it's time for me to maybe do something else with my day.

Sorry I've been lax in the whole responding to emails and comments lately. Life's been busy this summer (and I mean busier than just sitting around for hours watching old television shows and crying)(though sometimes I cry when I don't even watch old television shows, so hey, hmmm...). Please know, however, that I am trying, and I appreciate them.

I'm also still pretty damn boring.