Nothing, really

So, you may be wondering why I have reappeared.

Some may think it’s because I have used so little of my brain lately it’s starting to leak out my ears. Some may think it’s because I have huge news to impart (I totally don’t, if you are part of that some, you should look away). But the truth is this. My sister has decided to try to outblog me, with not one, but two blogs that are better than mine and that just will not stand.

As some of you may know, my sisters and I are ultra-competitive. We MUST outdo each other and make the others feel small and little and also? Puny. We’re like those sisters in that movie where one plays one instrument (saxophone?) and one plays another (cymbals?) and the little mousy one gets famous and the more-talented-yet-also-more-evil one gets…drunk, and I think dead. That’s us! Hate and Bitter and Mean Stuff spewing whenever we get together!

Just kidding, of course! Although we do get drunk a lot.

My sisters and I are actually all the same person, born in different years with completely different hair. We are so similar we almost always say the exact same thing at the exact same time. In fact, if my other sister were to also get a blog, I can pretty much guarantee that one day the three of us would each post the exact same entry on the exact same day without even trying. That would be, of course, only if I update mine more than once every 5,000 days. But I’m going to. I promise! I do! I am not even lying! This time I mean, I am actually not lying.

To catch you up, though here’s a quick rundown of the months you have been without me.

Times I have fallen down: 4

Times I have cut my hair: 1 (I know! It was gross. I just can’t go that long again.)

Times I have had a pox…yes, a POX! Break out on my hands and feet: 1

Amount of time it took to recover from the pox…yes, a POX!: 3 weeks (I know! It was also gross.)

Times I have gone to the Bahamas: 1 (You should totally go. They have conch! Everywhere! It’s not that exciting, really, and it’s very chewy but isn’t it hard to find around here?)

Pairs of butterfly flip-flops purchased: 1 (So cute)

Other pairs of shoes purchased: 0 (Shameful.)

Times I spilled gasoline all over myself: 1 (I think that’s enough, don’t you?)

Times I hit my head on the wall in the shower: 1 (I think I have an inner ear disorder)

Times I have walked around the zoo for fun: 1

Times I have walked around the zoo for exercise: A lot. (And it isn’t fun. But I am hopeful that I am building a good enough relationship with some of the animals that should they escape, they will not snack on me. My sister assures me that this is unlikely and that instead they will probably come right for me. She’s nice.)

Number of jade necklaces I had lost almost a year ago found this week by my mother: 1

Number of times I had told myself, “This is why you cannot have nice things. Because you are irresponsible and you don’t put things away and that is why they get lost or broken so you canNOT buy that gold bird necklace because you do NOT deserve it!” when thinking about lost jade necklace: 4,870

Number of times it occurred to me I was possibly being a smidge too hard on myself: 1 (But then I quickly changed my mind because Erin, if you do not take better care of your things, you will have no more things because I will not buy them for you! Love, Erin)

Number of times I had secretly thought that my nieces and/or nephews had broken it and thrown it out so as to avoid getting in trouble: 1,297. (Except they ALWAYS either confess or out each other so that was an unlikely scenario.)

Number of times my refrigerator broke and needed to be replaced: 1 (And that is plenty, thank you.)

Number of days I have left work unable to feel my feet because the air conditioning is up too high: 3 and counting.

Number of times I have thought about eating macaroni and cheese in the last month: 1,443 (No reason, really, I just think about it a lot.)

See? Nothing. There is nothing going on here, but the real reason I am coming back to the blog and hopefully back to some normal brain function, because I seriously think mine is rotting, is that yesterday I spent 45 minutes reading a scrapbooking catalog. And I mean reading closely and critically and trying to figure out what a brad is and marveling at the eleventy hundred types of paper available and wondering if instead of ordering the variety pack of barbecue brads (that I still do not understand the purpose of) I can just order the ones shaped like grills. And that? Well…That just cannot happen again. And I'm not anti-scrapbook, it's just that if I start one more thing that involves bringing even one more piece of crap (or scrap...hee!) into my apartment, I will pop.