Well I am just giddy as all get-out.
(Wait, did I just say giddy as all get-out? What am I, Marie Osmond?)
How about this? I'm supa psyched.
That's better.
So I'm supa psyched that there was such dynamic discussion on my post yesterday about whether or not a woman should make the first move on the man. The consensus was pretty even, but it's just fascinating to me that other people are interested in this like I am. I tend to agree with a couple of the readers' opinions that men have backed down a bit in recent years, and women are picking up the slack. At the same time, I kind of like the challenge of being more of a decision-maker in the whole process, ya know? We women no longer have to sit back and wait for a guy to pay attention to us. That's pretty cool. However, it can be taken too far, and that's where it gets tricky.
Moving on.
Today I had a can of Diet Coke for lunch, and when I was done, I moved the little tab thingy back and forth until it came off. And just like any boy-crazy girl would do, I said the alphabet while pushing the tab, in order to find out who I'm going to marry. The tab came off on the letter "F," which means my future husband's name starts with "F." (Frank? Fernando?) But just yesterday the tab came off on the letter "D." (David? I like that name. I could marry a David. But then what about Fernando?)
This little game is so silly, but I've been playing it since I was in sixth grade. That, and the apple stem one. (You say the alphabet at every twist of the stem.) Who thought of these goofy gimmicks? Why do people believe in them? And why on earth am I still taking part in such a ludicrous activity? After all, I've been doing this with every apple and pop can for the past 17 years. And according to the extensive results, I'm apparently going to marry someone whose name starts with a letter between A and Z. Groundbreaking. Maybe I should start keeping track of the letters I get, and the one that comes up the most often will represent the name of my husband.
Either that, or I could quit relying on a piece of aluminum to determine my fate.
Just thought I'd share one of my neurotic little quirks. I hope I'm not alone, but I wouldn't be surprised if I am.
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1 comment:
I've given up on apple stems and pop cans, but I'm still holding onto the "he loves me, he loves me not" with flower petals. I also wish at 11:11 when I notice, birthday candles, and eyelashes that have fallen out. Always about boys, of course. ;)
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