Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

I forgot who I was yesterday.  I lost myself in a moment of dumb bravery.  I watched Pretty Little Liars.  And not just any Pretty Little Liars.  The season finale.  The scariest episode of the season.  The fearful climax.  Stupid Jules.

I made Jim watch with me and mistook his presence for a free courage pass.  Nightmares ensued the entire night.  Seriously, I dreamed of every possible creepy scenario the PLL writers could go from here.  ABC Family?  Are you reading?  I could write for you guys literally, in my sleep.  From my REM to your storyboards. 

But this happens every now and then.  Every once in a while I fall off my nut and like to play make-believe I'm a brave.  Another recent example is my book selection, The Tale of Halcyon Crane (see sidebar).  Scary freakin' story (for me, mind you.  It could be all marshmallows and bunnies for you).  You'd think after 31 years, I'd know I'm a pansy and not put myself through the ringer like this (haha.  Ringer.  If you saw PLL last night you know somebody else got put through "the ringer" so to speak), but alas!  I still confuse myself with a person who has a spine.

Speaking of confusion, I was terribly confused when this commercial turned out to be for Dodge.  I mean, am I crazy or are those Twix candy bars in the spotlight there at the beginning?  I was all pumped up for a Twix commercial.... I don't get nearly so excited about vehicles.  Unless they come with a free Twix.

1 comment:

Nicki Woo said...

For the love of pretty little liars, I STILL CAN'T LEAVE COMMENTS ON YOUR BLOG! CRUD!!!

It's me Nicki Woo. Forced to comment anonymously. Rats.

You cracka me up. I'm laughing on the outside, but really I'm crying on the inside.

I pretend I'm brave too. Everytime I go into a haunted house, and want to die, but instead crawl up my husbands shirt so the monsters don't see me. Which they do, because I haven't quite figured out how to fit anything but my head and shoulders up the back up Warwick's shirt without him falling on his face, or getting seriously mad at me for stretching his shirt out.