Right, so it's Monday night, and I feel like going out and distracting myself from my inner voice. I don't feel like thinking, I feel like living. That might not make any sense, but it sure does roll off the tongue.

C.O.T.

Our christmas tree is still up, and nobody around here has any immediate plans of taking it down. I know I don't. I'm getting pretty good at just ignoring the darn thing.

C.O.T.

Yesterday I watched the romantic comedy Head Over Heels, starring Freddie Prinze Jr. and some blonde chick (forgot the name), and throughout the movie, all I kept thinking was "Oh good grief, this is so corny."

*Gasp*
When did this happen?? When did I become like this? I used to LOVE romantic comedies...developing minute-crushes on each male lead, and in the case of a video rental, secretly rewinding and replaying the "first kiss" scene, after which I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

Now it seems like I can't bare to watch anything even remotely mushy. Maybe I've "matured" as is the popular notion. Maybe I've developed a crusty, protective, "no-mush" coating, although I don't know why, since my heart's never officially been broken.

Maybe I'm just hatin'.