India the country where the Kama Sutra was made has political upheavals every year on Valentine’s Day. Does that make sense to you?

Looking back at the relationship I had with my mother when I was younger sometimes leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.

Phase One: As a young child my mom was my role model, my best friend, and I cherished my every moment with her. In my eyes she could do no wrong and when I grew up all I wanted was to be like her.

Phase Two: I remember drawing pictures and taping them to the ceiling of my mom’s bedroom so she’d have something to look at while she laid sick and in bed for months on end. I thought I could take care of her. I thought I was a big girl and that I could do everything for her that she needed.

Phase Three: As I got older I developed more of my “own personality” and slowly drifted away from that sweet little girl who once wanted nothing more than to be just like her mom. I made little baby steps towards becoming rebellious.

Let’s go down the list and decide what needs to be done.

In a world where people can communicate with someone halfway across the world with just the push a button, and without ever opening their mouths, a whole new spectrum of unspoken social rules opens up. For instance, how many smiley faces or lol’s in one text is too many? Is deciding to stop texting someone without saying good-bye the new equivalent to hanging up on them? How much time should you spend on each given text? Is thinking about this stuff just being over-analytical? Probably, but I over-analyze everything anyway, so I’m going to do it. While I think that the texting rules are different for everyone, here are the things that bother me the most.

1.) LOL

There are two things that bother me about lol’s.

I’ll go ahead and say it: I don’t want kids and I never have. I’ve said this since I was a child and every other girl went around cradling a doll and arguing about baby blanket patterns. It horrified my peers and made my mother’s friends raise their eyebrows, but I was in no way, shape, or form interested in popping out a little ankle-biter. I’ve never said “I’m never having children,” because people can change, and accidents* can happen. Here are some reasons I don’t want to be a mother.

1. I am deathly afraid of being pregnant.

Next, you go through the questioning and fighting stage.  Is this person right for me after all?  Is this going to work out?  You start to fight about how he doesn’t communicate with you as much as he used to.  He doesn’t try to “woo” you anymore because he believes he already had you. This is really where couples make it or break it.  Some people just can’t stand that there isn’t that firing spark anymore.  Sure, you feel connected.  Just not how it was in the very beginning of the relationship. 

Next step is “finding the perfect medium”.

I was glancing through my subscriptions and I’m thinking some of the people I read are the same people I go to school with. Some of them are parents of my best friends. Some of them I see at work, others just walking around during the day, and I see them so much without really stopping to think about them.

I doubt any of you would really pay attention to me, either. I’m quiet and more of a bystander in person. If you do glance at me, what I say will more likely be the shortened versions of what I write here.

I was still laughing when I noticed I was about to step on something: a lone cigarette, accidentally discarded from my Dad’s friend’s pocket when he gracefully exited the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do.

My hubby and I both have pretty thick eyebrows.  Mine I pluck or wax, while he decides to look like “The Count” from Sesame Street. “ONE…..ahh ahh ahh.” Sorry, I just can’t say “The Count” without imitating him.

Anywho, having 2 girls with our hairy genetics really scared me. There was a huge risk of giving birth to two “Counts”, or even worse…. Bert.

Sometimes I think of myself as being two distinct people.  There’s the guy who shows up to play soccer, and there’s the guy who I am the rest of the time.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if the guy who played soccer was around all the time.  I wonder why I can’t be that person all the time.