Why is Randomness so Fun?

I do not understand when fellow blogger friends say that they have nothing to write about. My verbal diarrhea is so potent and perhaps I am so arrogant to think that you want to hear about EVERY THOUGHT that goes through my brain. I have to control my blogging tendencies. Seriously, I think I could blog all day. ALL DAY. Do you want to hear about the smell in my refrigerator? Got it. How about the last time I cleaned the litter box? okey dokey. Who doesn't want to hear about my kids throwing up? That is serious entertainment. How about when I talk about my obsessive compulsive habits? Gotcha. I love to read about other people's OC habits; perhaps because it makes me feel better about my own. Do you want to hear about all the cute things my kids say? Who doesn't? Are you some kind of weird person who doesn't want to see pictures of my cute kids and listen to me ramble out their cuteness? I do not blog about everything I think. I want to keep you guessing. "Oooh, what is she going to blog about today?" That's my job. Or one of them anyway. Self-assumed, of course.

I was spending some quality time this morning watching Flight of the Conchord clips. And then I was thinking, "are their mothers proud of them?" And then I thought about that I don't think I could've been a famous actress or singer who ever says bad words or does questionable immoral things onscreen because my mother would watch. Of course she would. She would want to support me, but then she would be disappointed because I had compromised my morals to be famous. But maybe I would've tried to convince her since I was younger that I must pursue my art and then she would be proud of me because I had accomplished my goal. I think about this stuff when I watch a movie where the actors are doing something that maybe you shouldn't do in front of a camera. Their mothers had to have watched them doing that! And probably their aunts and grandmothers. And then I'm embarrassed for them. If it were my family and it were me that was famous, then they probably would've planned this whole big family thing where they would've watched my movie all together and then this horrible uncomfortable silence would come and they would be embarrassed and disappointed in me. And that's why I didn't become famous. It was a choice I made for the sake of my extended family.

Why can't I learn to play the guitar? This annoys me. I should know how to play. I cannot get past the point of my fingers hurting.

I think I want to get my haircut. I'm thinking a Katie Holmes kind of cut. Maybe.

I always think when I get my haircut short that it's going to look way better and then I do it and it doesn't. And then I wish it were long again because at least I can put it in a pony tail. But somehow I have this bug in my brain about getting my hair cut off. And I know I look JUST LIKE Katie Holmes. This is another thing about getting my hair hacked. I think that I should (I don't know why) look like the celebrity who I'm thinking my haircut is most like. And I don't. I look like me with short hair. Which sometimes I like and sometimes I don't. So I probably will. Maybe. Or not. I'll probably just do it impulsively one day without thinking about it and VOILA! I've got short hair. Maybe.

I need to dust my fans. What I would really like is to get Texas Aggie in Florida to come up and clean my house. As an experiment. And of course she wouldn't charge me. It would be a tutorial. This chick is hard core. She did a post about her house cleaning techniques and I was struck about how UNCLEAN I was. Not gross, mind you, but just not as clean as my Texas friend in FL. Check out her last comment on my previous post. Tex, that's an invitation. I'll take you to the Botanical Gardens and Dreamland Ribs afterward. And I can look at your great hair. She does have fabo hair.

February is almost halfway over. Daffodils should be here soon! And then spring is just around the corner... And then comes the wisteria, which is my absolute favorite part of spring in the south. Gorgeous! It just takes over everything (and probably is slowly killing the tree it has wrapped itself around) and the smell is so Springy. Quinn asked me (because I hate winter) if I would rather live in a place with little winter, like Florida (which is where I grew up-which is probably why I don't like winter). And I thought about it and then realized I loved Spring in Alabama because it's after the winter and it gives me something to look forward to. You just can't beat wisteria for beauty. I love to watch the daffodils bloom, as well as the irises, lilies, and lenten roses (which grew all over our yard in our previous house in Birmingham). I brought some of the seeds over last spring to the Poolhouse, but I don't know if they'll bloom this year.

I need to clean the refrigerator I referred to earlier. The spilled pickle juice is getting to me. It spilled three weeks ago, maybe longer. No one has said anything when they come over, but maybe they're being nice. I don't know if I would go into a house of a friend, curl up my nose, and say "does it smell like PICKLES in here? Blegh." Maybe I would. And then they would cry and I would feel really bad. "I mean in a good way it smells like pickles. Who doesn't like pickles? For real. Don't cry." Yikes.

I want some pointy-toe black zip-up boots. Now's the time to look because boots are going to be on sale. I have a hard time finding zip-up boots because I have large calves. Shutup, I do. I remember one Christmas my in-laws got me this gorgeous pair of Nine West zip-up boots and I was so excited and tried them on. And they didn't zip up. How humiliating. I got rid of a whole bunch of shoes the other day, including my old zip-up boots, which have a round toe and I want a pointy toe (as I just stated). Quinn came in and asked if I was getting rid of ALL those shoes and I proudly said YEP. Then he looked in the closet and saw the remainder of my shoes. He just stared. I asked him what he was staring at and said all the other shoes I wasn't getting rid of. Hello, there are only 25 pairs left. And that's both seasons. Okay, I have shoe issues, but I do have a knack at finding shoes at really good prices or getting them for free from Miss Toni, who is this cool lady at my church is gives me her hand-me-down shoes sometimes. Speaking of good prices, the Pant's Store in Leeds is having their annual warehouse sale, which is awesome. Last year, I got nine pairs of shoes for myself for $5 or $10 a piece. I also got a cool pair of flip flops for Quinn and Stride Rite shoes for my kids for el cheapo.

Well, the house is berzerkly messy now, even though it was fine two hours ago. Must go and do what I must. See ya.