I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Seriously, the world loves me. I'm not sure why it does, but I love most of it right back. I love wrapping presents. Flowers are important. That TOTALLY wasn't me who prank called you, I swear. I love to grocery shop. My boyfriend loves to cook. I can't get enough of kissing him. My bicycle has streamers on the handles. I think if people wanna know about my faith, they'll ask. I look young, and sound old. I love chaos, so you'll always find pets and teenagers around my house. I always have at least one book in my purse. At camp in high school, I was voted "Most Talkative." UNANIMOUSLY. I dance at the slightest provocation. This blog is my mirror, my publicist, my calendar, and my most flattering angle. I am its pushy stage mother. And apparently, I'm important enough to get hate mail. Sweet.
Blogging from sunny San Diego
Colsy and her Manticore!
Need direction from the stars? Ask our very own rat psychic! Ask Miss Cleo.
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I know that joking around on your dental insurance forms probably isn’t a good idea, but with questions (set ups?) like “Primary language” (None, puppy dog eyes, total and complete lies!) and “Communication impairments”(Suspicious, oversensitive to criticism, tendency to interrupt) how am I supposed to resist?
Labels: I am such a child, medical
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