Randomness

"ness" is my favorite suffix, as in "gorgeousness" or "swiftness" or "politeness." This is something no one needs to know, but it is my blog. My eyelashes are ticklish. I tickle them with my index finger. The sensation puts my nose in sneeze mode. The sneeze does not show. Sneezes are one thing humans are so good at predicting. When the sneeze feeling shows up on the dial without the actual function, we get weirded out. And yes, The name Esme does sound like a sneeze. I am not good at picking tv shows. Rob watches all different kinds. I like Criminal Minds. This morning I watched an old re-run of The Crocodile Hunter, which is grippy and fascinating. And I meant to write "trippy" just then, but both adjectives apply. Who doesn't want to see an Aussie get spat on by a cobra and then surf? Speaking of t.v., last night I fell asleep while Rob watched Family Guy (one show that should be murdered.)I never sleep without taking my meds, and then only at night. I can not take naps during the day. I can wake up early morning to use the loo and fall back into it, and that is all. Last night, though, I took a pre-bedtime nap without the medicine. I think that is pretty awesome. I mean, it has been full years since this has happened. Summer is everything one wants in a lover- warm, sunny, light, bright, fun, care free. I feel good about this summer. And everyone becomes so aware during these months. Everyone travels during summertime, but we know fall is coming, and this is just a season. We get louder in summer, more talkative, animated, sure of everything. The time for harvest and cubicles and coldness (everything one does not want in a lover) will come, but summer is for letting roots grow. I think we become more aware as a way to say: hey, everyday is important-and mundane and amazing-not just these summer days that we Americans like to make quite a deal of. It will pass once again, as always, and God is not effected by perennial Seasons like us. We are trying to root down Now in the growing months because we know the rooting up time is coming. We are trying to stay the same during a time of change? We are trying to find ourselves? I am confused and not getting at what I mean to get at. My birthday is on Friday, and in my humble opinion, it ought to go ahead and get here. Oh, so I have noticed lately that toddlers and elderly people LOVE me. It is because I am at a good weight. I am not even kidding, this is the reason. These two life stages notice things that make you look good, and they want to be around you because you are attractive. The same would be true if I had huge breasts, or any breasts! At work, toddlers stare and start random conversations with me. Old men tell me I am pretty. Can I say that I do not "just love old people." This is not because of the old men paying me undue attention. It is because I am young. I worked with some waitresses who liked taking tables with elderly patrons. My mother, for years, cleaned the houses of old people and would strike up conversations with random old men on park benches. I think it's a bit dumb and not genuine. This is not to say I dislike them. I respect them as individuals who have things they need to do, and I have had a few gems of old ladies in my life. I just think it is weird to make them your hobby. Now, I don't feel the same way about kids. I say if you LOVE kids (and are not mean to them), then do something with them. I rather like kids, but if you would rather not be around them, I totally respect that, too. Moving on to more randomosity, I like all my candles, yet they are all Christmas scents. I need to buy a few summery candles. Like cilantro mint or daisy breeze or cantaloupe whispers. Again, I will be twenty-five on Friday and all I can think about is the good Mexican food I will eat at Nuevo Laredo, and then the dessert after at Cafe Intermezzo. Mexican food is my favorite cuisine, followed by Japanese. Rob likes American and Italian. I would pick Mexican food over anything else, and then, good sushi. Rob likes his hamburger with fries, and a bowl of spaghetti with meatballs. My toes are on the desk, painted purple with sparkly non-sense on them. I like being tacky sometimes. I must go, baby blog, I love you!