You know, I don’t even pretend that I will write the insightful crowd-pleasing intelligent informative posts that you read on all the other days besides the second Saturday of the month. I firmly believe when you “try” to do what you think “should” be done, by god it just don’t feel right, right? I run my hillbilly feet from my mountain cove to the WU lovely suburbs and . . . well, there goes the neighborhood! Haw! I like to talk to you (empty my head). You know, yappity about stuff. We have some coffee and a scone, or some vodka and some vodka, and we open our mouths and stuff comes out.
Like, how sometimes when I’m watching The Big Bang Theory, I have this semi-uncomfortable feeling that I am oft-times too much like Sheldon. That I understand too much of what he says and does and it makes perfect sense to me, so that while I, and the studio audience, are laughing, I am also thinking, “Um . . . wait . . . we are laughing because this is a bit of the ridiculous . . . and so I am a bit of the ridiculous.” Teehee.
I know I have tics and weirdness and “ways I must do things.” Maybe a lot of that is from spending a lot of time alone with a lot of time for my brain to fill up with a lot of crap? I shrug.
My place is at the left end of the couch and this has been so for many years, even before Sheldon. When company comes, I hurry to sit on that end, because it is My End; however, if someone beats me to it, unknowing that this is My End, then I will toss and turn upon the other end of the couch; I am displaced! I am uncomfortable! Ungh! I would never say anything to the displacer but as soon as they go home, I pounce upon My End of the couch and nestle it back to its former Me-ness. I have a few moments of, “It feels weird because someone else has been here,” which I must quickly overcome so I can enjoy My End again. Huhn.
I’m not much of a meat eater, but when there is Meat Food prepared, it must be eaten within a day, maybe two. I imagine it is spoiling almost immediately, growing nasty crawling critters. I read articles you know! I’m informed! Milk is the same way. As soon as you open a carton of milk, it begins to spoil. I swear it does. Does so! Tell me someone else scrubs their watermelons and especially the bumpy cantaloupes with soap and water before slicing them? Yes? I know it’s not just me who has heard things. [Read more…]