i know. i'm blushing.

I promise I haven’t forgotten about this thing; I’ve just been allowing myself to take a little break from it. I don’t imagine I’ll be gone for very much longer, so I’ll see you again soon.

I sometimes let myself get too nostalgic, and it puts me in this weird haze.

It’s like the feeling when you’ve played a video game for way too long. Your mind feels submerged in that other world, and all you can think about is Donkey Kong and Ditty racing through the mines in a cart.

Nostalgia is like that to me. Reality becomes blurry. These dusty, warped, old memories mix with the facts of present-day life, and I’m left in this funky haze. It’s weird.

And then I’m caught up in this need to reconnect with random people from my past. I just spent the last fifteen minutes looking for an old friend online. Who knows why. I haven’t talked to her since high school. I just felt like I wanted to make sure she was okay. Felt like I wanted her to know that I remembered her. But I couldn’t find her.

It’s weird when people disappear. She’s not even on facebook. Who’s not on facebook? Even my dad is on facebook.

Of course, in this strange, foggy state, I magically find my yearbook open on my lap. (Don’t judge… I know it’s crazy that I still have that thing, and even crazier that I know where it is.) I sift through these amusing old pictures and sappy messages from classmates who have all disappeared. Weird weird weird.

“Keep in touch!” “I’m going to miss you!” “I know you’ll do well.” “You owe me like $1,000,000 in gas money.” (And I probably did, actually.)

Is it pathetic that it makes me feel a little blue? I don’t even know why I feel blue. I love my life now, and I loved my life then (well, I at least love the memories), so I don’t know why nostalgia makes me feel a little melancholy.

Maybe I just let myself soak it up for too long.

I don’t have much to say today (I know, I know… don’t die of shock), so I thought instead of me blathering on, I’d just leave a few quotes here for you to do with as you like. It’s okay if they mean nothing to you, but for me—for where I am in my unpredictable, uncharted, and moderately insane life—these words mean a great deal.

Did you know?!

(Check out the stills. THIS one’s my favorite. Also, you can sneak a preliminary little video peak here.)

A random trail of link-clicking a few minutes ago led me to a blog that I swear was written especially for me (and maybe my sister, too). See, I’ve got this weird obsession with pens that bridges on snobbery. I’m pretty sure this site—called the pen addict—will only fuel the madness.

Aaand, I’m afraid I relate a little too well to this comedy sketch (also found here):

(Quote of the day: “Bartin, hang up the phone! I think it’s just dangling!”)

I had no idea how deep my disdain for those nasty ads was, but it was apparently pretty deep because every time I’d come to my blog to make a new post, I’d be so grossed out by those images that I’d leave instead of posting. It kind of felt like it’d be wrong to post anything next to those nasties. Well, I think two weeks later, it’s high time to get over it.

If there’s any force tough enough to combat those sick pictures, I’d say it’s definitely Chuck Norris. Tuesday was The Chuck’s birthday (did you know his name is really Carlos Ray Norris?), and to commemorate his entry into the world, we threw the one true Texas Ranger a little party.

Complete with cake:

Good times had by all.