I feel like I start off a disproportionate number of posts by saying, “I’M ALIVE! I SWEAR!” Although you can’t possibly know that for sure. This could be the kidnapper updating all my online things so nobody will be suspicious. (If there’s suddenly a halt in the flow of TV show-related Tweets on my Twitter, that’s when you should probably alert the authorities.)
Why do I stop posting? My life stops being the action-packed Hollywood thriller we all know it’s destined to be someday. So I think to myself, “Why post anything? Nothing’s going on.” And then a bunch of noteworthy stuff happens, and I realize my life is so full of writable things that I can’t possibly pick just one. But THEN the nagging guilt starts tugging at me. And THEN I get so bogged down with homework that I’ll do just about anything to escape the hellish torment, and then I run out of things to watch on Netflix, and finally I sit down and blog. So that’s where we are.
Let’s play a GAME! And this isn’t like Monopoly with the family where your dad takes it so seriously that your mom and brother quit and finally it’s just the two of you playing into the wee hours of the morning until somebody cries. Nope. This is not like that. This is FUN and not traumatizing. Here are three things that happened. Only one of them happened to me. The others probably happened to somebody somewhere. Just, you know, not to me, and I’m the one in charge here. In short, one is truth and the others are lies in a lie sandwich with a side helping of lies.
Over spring break, I…
…got myself stuck in a dressing room at Target and had to crawl out under the door.
…used the power of electricity for evil instead of good.
…discovered that my great-great-great-grandfather was a murderer.
WHICH IS IT?