We'd Do Another Dance

Tonight, I'm feeling antsy. I can tell because every time I capitalize a word, the next letter following the capital is also capitalized. I really have a lot of nervous tension that cannot be cured by normalcy.

Caleb's doing homework at the moment and I'm wearing my Pam costume. It looks great. I would like to get a perm so my hair can be curly too, but I don't want to have to deal with it after Halloween. Call me crazy. Anyway, all of this sounds normal. It is! It is. And therefore I just want to brush my teeth and jump out a window. Go do something crazy. Buy me a plane ticket and I'll come out there to do your laundry. Or better yet, I would insist that we go to Atlantic City. So, just buy me a plane ticket to New Jersey. No, no, no. Don't do that. That all seems too simple.

I woke up from my nap tonight with that yucky taste in my mouth. Morning breath, but not. I ate ice cream, I ate pudding, I ate pasta. Nothing aided my insanely gross mouth. This is why I would brush my teeth, for verification.

Almost every time I close my eyes these days, I see the VH1 I Love Toys game. It's delicious, but a time waster. I often play it when I'm instant messaging. Caleb has taken an interest in it, which is nice. He always tells me I have a high score, even if I don't, comparatively. He does this because he doesn't know any better. However, I am curious to see what the highest scores of other people are. Maybe I could enter a contest and then win money because of my excellency; this would mean I wasn't wasting my time, just honing my skills.

My keyboard is thrashed on my old desktop. I often use the laptop, but I'm always amused when I get to use this keyboard. It has nail polish, hairs of all sorts, grime, filth, everything. And it's a Dell QuietKey, therefore being the noisiest thing in our house. That is, besides me. I've tried to clean it multiple times, but I'm afraid of getting electrocuted. As we know, it's not a pretty sight when someone is electrocuted.

My sister (a sophomore in high school) got cast as the witch in a children's theatre production of "Rapunzel." She is excited about the student director and the cast. I'm gald that she got cast at all, if only because it would have broken her spirit not to be. But, she's got talent and to not cast her would be a mistake. Therefore, she's cast, the ball is set rolling and another high school dream comes true.

My high school dream was to write something fantastic. I felt that I reached that, when I wrote a short one-act my freshman year at BYU. It's called "Small Talk" and is extremely full of bathos. The more I look back, however, I feel like I did my best writing on my blog, where I just set everything out on the table and added some touches that could have exploded in my face. And did. But, it's not like that's going to be recognized by anyone that really matters. And it's not like I'm the writer in this house anymore; Caleb has tens of short stories and a huge idea for a novel. He always complains about how he never has time to write anymore. I have the time, but just not the talent.

It'd be completely insufficient if I said that I wasn't happy. As mentioned previously, I had a bowl of ice cream AND a cup of butterscotch pudding. I heard earth shattering thunder tonight and I'm still alive! When Carlie called me about her play, she actually seemed interested in talking to me (a first). My costume is one in a million and the Mario/Princess Peach idea is timeless and therefore can be tabled. Television was good to me tonight, though Studio 60 is making me like D.L. Hughley.

Caleb just came in to ask me if I was bored; of course I said no, because I don't want to make him feel guilty for doing his homework. My mom told us, when we got engaged, that if I didn't go to school, I'd be jealous of Caleb's "jet setting" lifestyle, referring to how busy he'd be. To be honest, I'm not jealous at all. Besides the couple of days where I never make it out of the house, I'm completely fine with not doing homework and not having to deal with lame co-workers. I'm working on the latter part of that statement, being that hopefully soon I'll have co-workers. But, my point is that when my mom got married at 19 and had me exactly 9 months later, she married my dad, already graduated from college and teaching at a junior high, coming home at 4 every afternoon. She was jealous of his lifestyle and thought the feeling was mutual to all. Until I join PTAs and run the book fairs, I'll be happy NOT being a part of that.

My new favorite phrase is Shut....it. But, I'm going to try to work in Dinkum Flicka.