My posts have been very few and far between these days, but I don’t really like that saying, so I’m going to change that.
My posts are as rare as an attractive mullet lately. I bow at your feet and beg for your forgiveness. I have been super-duper busy and stressed out in regards to school and other things lately, but let me tell you something: I have NOT been too busy to notice that I now have over 100 FOLLOWERS!!! This is me:
Do you guys have any idea how many people that actually is? I am not sure if I do. While trying to wrap my mind around this huge number, I got to thinking: if you were all literally following me around all the time, that would get kind of weird. So, I’m thinking that, since our relationship has just risen to a whole new level, we need to set some boundaries and maybe even come up with a safe word for if things get too serious.
First: the boundaries
Now, I don’t mind if you guys are following my blog – in fact, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE that you are following my blog! Follow it some more, if you’d like! And bring your friends! But, when you step out of the blogosphere and into my world and start following me around, here are some places where you probably shouldn’t follow me. Maybe you should bring a book or a magazine or something and just wait for me outside.
I know that you are all interested in what goes on while I’m in there, so let me just say that I am currently using Aussie’s 3 minute miracle on my hair, and that’s about all you need to know. Besides the fact that you probably shouldn’t be following my naked self around, having 100 people in my tiny bathroom would just be insane. Elbows would be everywhere! Someone would be standing on my toilet, and I’m sure they’ll break the seat off and then I’ll have to buy a new one. It’s best if you just wait outside, and I guess maybe hand me a towel if I need one.
First of all, you have to understand that I loathe elevators on their own, so you should not take this personal. I would much rather take the stairs, as riding in elevators makes me uncomfortable. The only fun part is when the elevator first takes off and starts going down, jump as high as you can! You’ll feel weightless and it is totally awesome.
Next, there is the fact that I am pretty claustrophobic. This probably stems from playing hide and seek at a sleepover when I was a kid and accidentally locking myself in my friends upstairs closet. Nevertheless, stick me in an elevator and add a shit-ton of people, and I’m checking out. Plus, one of you will probably fart and make it all smelly and hard to breathe.
These boundaries should be good for now.
THANK YOU ALL FOR FOLLOWING!!! : )
p.s. the safeword is always onomatopoeia...
and you have to spell it.