I don't get to "take my DVR with me" when I move. Bummer.

I have slightly disturbing news.

If I wanted to ruin my life a little more, I would probably love Twitter, but that makes me sad.

You know why?

I think in status updates. Seriously, in my pea-little brain, throughout the day, I have thoughts that I would love to "share with the world," and they are simply strange little statements about my life and the world around me.

The same question must be asked though. Who decided that "the world" needed to know all of my thoughts? And, conversely, when did I stop wanting to express myself in paragraphs and start wanting to express myself in quips and sentences? No time for an explanation...here's a little tidbit, world! I don't "have time" to talk to my friends, but I can let them know about the funny moment I had at Speedway! It is a strange transition of my brain, but I am amazed that I can actually dictate how technology has changed my way of thinking. Does that blow anyone else's mind?

So, here are a few of my status updates:
(I can't actually make them my statuses because I am selling Chicken Pox. I also don't want to be one of those people who changes status updates every forty minutes, even though I have a new thought all of the time.)

1. They ran out of Cherry Coke at Speedway. I tried regular Coke and cherry syrup. Not even close.

2. The colors of the leaves against the leaden hue of the sky nearly made me cry this afternoon. Absolutely breathtaking.

3. Every year I wait until the day before Halloween to get my costume together. Maybe this is why my costume is always lame.

4. The mouse in Mrs. Morrow's office was so stinking adorable. Why can't I have the same attitude toward the mouse that has possibly made its home in my apartment?

5. I get the keys to my new house tomorrow. MY house. So surreal.

6. I had a dream about the senior issue of the Focus. Does that mean I am demented?

7. I miss Alie.

8. I don't like candy corn. Never have. Never will.

Snicker Yum-Yum

I graded at Borders today. Man, I love that place. Again, I was seated close to a group of older men who heckled each other and talked for two hours about politics, money, and how much money their wives spend. They seemed like old friends, but I was saddened by them. They were consumed with the economy and with their stocks and gold investments. They had print-outs as to how much money each had gained in the past week. I get worried about money, but I can't imagine that being what I care about the most. It sounds a bit snotty to say it, but I felt sorry for them. Then, I started thinking about all the stuff I worry about that is seemingly pointless as well. The whole time I was there I felt a little depressed, to be honest.

Then Alie brought me my very own serving of Snicker Yum-Yum (self-named), and things got a little better.

About Jim and Pam. (Yes, I am about to write about fictional characters as if they are real, but is that so different than spending time talking about music? It is all about connecting, right?)

Considering all that I believe about fictional romances and how superficial love is made to be on television and the movies, I should get upset at Jim and Pam. The show is, in essence, a comedy of errors, and there is virtually nothing comedic that their storyline gives to the show. They are the perfectly sculpted couple in the midst of a cast of eccentric and ho-hum normies. The writers made a choice, and that choice was that the show would continue to be funny, but the drama around Jim and Pam was not going to give us laughs anymore, nor would we be allowed to pine for the eventual "someday" that we hoped to have. That day has come. They are too perfect. Namely, he is too perfect. He is shockingly sweet and adorably goofy. At every turn, he does something that is quirky and romantic, and for goodness sakes, they ended up together even after she was engaged to be married to another guy. He even went so far as to say "he loved her from the first day he met her." (Gag...right, Alie?)

I should be bothered.
But, I am not.

I should understand that the real world does not offer so perfect a situation, so perfect a guy, so perfect a chemistry. I should be annoyed that my heart has been manipulated for five seasons.

I am not so naive to think that I will find a Jim someday, but is it so wrong to hope? I guess I want to believe that I am worth it. I don't want someone who wouldn't cut his own tie to make me feel better about my ripped veil. I want someone to see me like Jim sees Pam. I want to marry my best friend.

I am not out of touch with reality. I don't actually see this happening (don't actually NEED for this to happen), but I won't settle for anything less.

And that's why it is okay for me to love them.

It's okay to love them.

Just let me be a hopeless Romantic for about twenty-four hours. After that, I will come back and talk about why I felt it necessary to post these pictures.

I am so lame.

Hi.

I am lame when it comes to being a blogger. I would have less trouble writing about life if I just wrote about life consistently, but I don't. Just like I don't always pay bills on time or clean my apartment or go grocery shopping.

Ugh.

I just needed to say something new.

I am going to throw something out there. Despite the bubbly sweet goodness of Cream Soda and the unfading glory of Cherry Coke, hot chocolate might just be the world's most perfect drink.