You are invited to take a field trip into the inner workings of my wandering brain.
I hate it when my phone rings. It is almost always someone calling to ask me to do something. When my cell phone rings, unless I know for certain that the person calling is not going to ask me to play piano for something or make a casserole for someone, I never answer.
Speaking of phones, the effects of being married for a while now are beginning to manifest themselves in strange ways. Most notably in the fact that I very nearly say "Love you!" every single time I hang up the phone. This can get especially awkward when my boss is calling me.
I was visiting Cary at the Academy once, and we were with a bunch of his friends. I saw what looked like Cary leaning over and reading something on a counter, so I went and rested my head on his shoulder and slipped my arm around his waist to read what he was reading. After several seconds, I realized that I did not recognize the shoes on this person and it was decidedly not Cary that I was snuggling up to. I stood up abruptly, muttered some sort of excuse and spent the rest of our time there extremely interested in the floor to avoid making eye contact with my accidental cuddle buddy. The mystery remains as to why this guy let me put the moves on him for so long without even pausing to look at me.
One time my aunt was at the movie store with her husband and they were wandering the aisles to pick out a movie. She came up behind him and gave him a quick pinch on the behind, only to discover that recipient of the pinch was not, in fact, her husband.
This same aunt once drove away from a gas station with the gas nozzle still stuck in her car.
We are very much related, can you tell?
Speaking of relatives, my widdle tiny brudder goes into the MTC today. We said goodbye this morning and it's taken a lot of self control to not sit at my desk and cry. I'm very proud of him and I know he's going to do great things and help so many people, but I'm selfish and I'm going to miss him. He always laughs at my jokes, which is a quality I find very endearing. He is a Harry Potter fanatic and is definitely bummed out to be missing the last movie.
I just read a review on Harry Potter 7 1/2 and I am not ashamed to admit that I have full-fledged goosebumps. Cary was supposed to be done flying T-6s this week, but they are just dragging out his last 2 flights, so he probably won't be in done in time for us to see the midnight premiere. Bummer. But Friday night can not come soon enough. Tickets have been purchased, Gryffindor shirt has been washed, and I am ready to cry in public, unashamedly.
In that last month or so I've been re-reading all of the books, and last weekend Cary and I had a Harry Potter movie marathon. This is me, raising my Potter Fan Flag high. I am not the least bit embarrased or shy to admit that I LOVE Harry Potter. The books are beyond magical and everytime I read them, I become completely engrossed in the story, even though I already know what happens. And everytime I read them, I have terrifying dreams about Voldemort. I am immediately suspicious of people who do not like Harry Potter.
I'm not sure what butterbeer and pumpkin pasties are, but I am positive that they would be delicious and I would love them.
I just learned from some google searching that Daniel Radcliffe's favorite drink is Diet Coke, and his favorite breakfast is toast with nutella. I'm pretty sure we are meant to be. And our birthdays are only 1 day apart.
Speaking of birthdays, only 11 more shopping days until mine! Hot dog. I love me a birthday! If you are reading this blog and we are friends and you know where I live, come to my house on my birfday for root beer floats and s'mores! Because it turns out that I don't particularly care for cake, and it's my birthday and I'll have root beer floats and s'mores if I want to. And if you are reading this blog but we aren't friends, but you still somehow know where I live, please stop reading my blog because that's creepy.
I prefer my rootbeer floats to be about 1 part rootbeer to every 10 parts ice cream. I really just want a bowl of vanilla ice cream with a light rootbeer coating. And when the rootbeer kind of freezes to the ice cream and creates that creamy frozen layer? Nothing better.
This took me probably 10 minutes to type. But if I just sat and thought all of these things, my brain would have gone from annoying phone calls to Harry Potter to root beer floats in approximately 2 seconds.
Sometimes Cary and I will be sitting around just hanging out and I'll ask him what he's thinking about, to which he almost always replies: "Nothing." I used to get mad and think that he just didn't want to tell me, but I've come to believe that this is really the truth. He describes this as his brain just "idling." My brain is incapable of idling. At any given moment, I have millions of thoughts bouncing around in there.
And what a wonder the internet is, allowing me to express each and every extremely insightful one of them.