It's Not Really Stealing

There is a Texas girl's blog I enjoy reading. Sometime last week, she posted this "list" thingy, and I found it quite interesting. It's a list that reveals a lot about the blogger... some things trivial, some things not. I liked it, so I am stealing it. Not really. She said we could take the idea.

I received a comment once that suggested I don't blog about myself enough. Really? Brace thy selves.

I suppose I do write more about the boy then anything else. He's just far more entertaining than the rest of us. I can't blog too much about the husband right now...
1. He's not here to entertain us.
2. I might compromise national security and be arrested in the comfort of my own home.
The cats? They are sorry sacks of fur. One keeps me up at night meowing and the other one is trying to drive me to insanity by going poopie in the floor (inches from the litter box) on a regular basis. At least she's regular. But I do love them.

So, here's a glimpse into my world...



I am thinking that I should not have busted into that bag of Halloween candy just yet.

I think too much. Over-thinking is a curse.

I have a sore mouth from my new fangled-y night guard. It's supposed to keep me from grinding my teeth.

I wish I had a billion dollars. Seriously.

I hate picking up cat poopie.

I miss... oh please!

I fear watching people I love suffer. (Wow. That's a deep one. Sorry.)

I hear the fan from the stove still running from Lord only knows when. If that husband were here... he'd have shut that thing up a long time ago.

I smell my semi-cold coffee sitting in front of me. (Dear God, please don't let it fall into the keyboard. Again.)

I crave all things el Mexicano. And Spanish lessons, obviously.

I search for a way to drop 40 pounds without exercising. I hate it.

I wonder what my little boy will look like as a teenager. Hide your little girls.

I regret not doing more with my creativity. Out of laziness, out of fear, out of lack of motivation.

I love my bed. It's cozy. Bedtime is my favorite time of day.

I ache when I work in the flowerbeds. And I worry that my neighbors are looking at my fat behind all stuck up in the air.

I am not a good decision maker... especially the small insignificant ones. Big ones? Much better.

I believe in the ultimate control of God in all things. (Wow. Another deep one.)

I dance when we watch High School Musical. (Is that too much information?)

I sing when I hear anything I know or think I know. At church, in the car, on TV, when watching High School Musical...)

I cry at the drop of a hat. And I quote, "I have a strict policy... No one cries alone in my presence." (Dolly Parton as Truvy in Steel Magnolias)

I fight as little as possible. I hate confrontation.

I won a chili cook-off contest last Fall. Without even really intending to enter. And I'm not bragging... I was truly stunned.

I lose my train of thought. Often. And my cel phone.

I never feel like I have my act together.

I always have a headache when it's gonna rain. My skull is my weatherman.

I confuse myself.

I listen to whatever happens to be on the radio. I'm not really picky about music style as long as no one's singing through their nose.

I can usually be found in flip flops.

I am scared of snakes, big snakes, little snakes, snakes, and worms because they look like tiny snakes.

I need to get off this dang computer and go be productive... it's a half day at school and my time is a-wastin' away.

I am happy to live in this beautiful land we call America. It is a gift. (Cue patriotic music...)

I imagine myself sitting on the beach about 23 times a day.

I tag... no one! I only do that on Facebook.

Feeling overloaded with information about me yet? I know I am.

Have a Blessed Wednesday, folks.