Quoteth

Since you're reading this, you're probably dying to hear about my most recent clumsy moment. I wish it was peanut butter 'n jelly time, but it's clumsy time. When I got home last night I felt my way through the living room and toward the fridge as usual. I refilled my water cup, snagged a straw from the pantry, and turned out the light. As I stumbled through the rest of the kitchen in search of the hall, my knees (both of them) collided with the biggest damn fan you have ever seen. Well, I couldn't see it at all.

As I plunked down on the floor in pain, chanting "ow. ow. ow. ow. ow," I wondered whether I would still have knees by the end of 2009. I ended up on my bed with ice packs on my knees and watching that documentary about the Harry Potter fandom, We Are Wizards, feeling as sorry for myself as that time I flung my avocado-topped bagel right atop the keyboard, mushy avocado sinking its way into the tiny gaps between keys.

So here's a first hand example of how much of a grammar snot I am. After my little brother Jesse's soccer game tonight, one of his friends came over for dinner. My mother had made pasta, and as he shoveled it down his throat with feeling, he said, "Spaghetti and pasta are like the best thing to eat before practice." to which I said, "Spaghetti and pasta, huh? Well isn't that great and cool."

But I think in other ways, I'm becoming a nicer person. I don't know how I feel about this yet, but I'm pretty sure it's disdain. I was clicking through someone's facebook photos when I came across one of those pictures where everyone looks hideous except the one person who somehow got lucky in the crappy lighting. So I commented, "Why does everyone in this photo look absolutely terrible except Renee?" and Renee commented later, "j, that's two genuine compliments you've given me in the last two days... tell me.... are you feeling alright?"

I am no longer a secret hermit. Maybe I never was. But my friends have been talking about it. My twitter message maybe a week ago was "It's time for my date with myself" to which one of my best friends, V, replied "That's silly. You're alone all the time."

Maybe that's why my friend Teep told me a couple weeks back, "Talking to you is sort of like talking to a semi-sentient radio." And maybe that's why I take pictures of my bed buddy, call it Jeero In Glasses, and get a serious albeit pathetic kick out of it. This is when I stop quoting, slap myself, shut my laptop, lie back and listen to the soundtrack to The Fellowship of the Ring. I'm going to crazy land. What?