Deep Thoughts

A few random thoughts:

Just heard about Lindsay while driving in my car to lunch. Lindsay. Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay. I know you can't see me, but I'm shaking my head. What the hell do you think you are doing? This is what happens when you don't take rehab seriously. Do you think that ankle bracelet is just a piece of jewelry? And does the damn thing even work? And when are you going back to red? Because redheads? Don't get arrested as much.

* * *

On the highway between downtown and my home, one of the orange barrels lost its blinking light during a recent construction process. Now, when I drive home at night, I see one lone blinking little warning light by the side of the road. But it is still there, blinking its little heart out. And, if it is a solar powered one, it'll just keep on blinking. Until Armageddon. Or until the Indians get to the Series. It hurts my heart a little.

* * *

I don't know whether or not to buy Harry Potter. I'm going to read it. Eventually. But I can't now, because I've got a ton of library books out. And I don't know if I want to commit to actually finishing the series. I waited on the last one about a year, only because I couldn't bear to know I was closer to the end. But I'm already spoiled on some plot points, so I might as well spend some hard-earned birthday money and get it before I find out that Harry died by reading some website.

* * *

I still love Big Brother. I came late to the game, but I'm in it now. I'm not quite obsessed enough to watch the live feeds, but I read the comments on the live feeds over at TWoP. Which is just as bad, really. Although that way I get to skip the misery that is Dick and Daniele and concentrate on my love of Dustin. He's like all my gay non-boyfriends rolled into one.

* * *

When you're told that you're going to a wild game party and people show up with hot dogs and bags of Funions, it is time to beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Just because ducks eat out of your hands does not mean you are a good person, like Snow White or something.

* * *

I'm going to start driving aimlessly around downtown Detroit in a reckless manner, hoping that I get into a car accident with Pudge Rodriguez and that, after the accident, he finds me so fetching that he asks for my number and we embark on an illicit affair, brought to light only when I'm featured on the jumbotron as he asks for my hand in marriage. Problem: I don't live in or near Detroit.