So, as I was formulating what it
was I wanted to write about this evening I took the opportunity to
proofread my previous couple of entries. They definitely needed some
tweakage, a misspelling here, the wrong choice of word there, I think
I caught everything, but thankfully this isn't English class, it is
my blog. Everyone around here should be used to me fucking up from
time to time.
But proofreading wasn't the only
thing I did when I got home. I needed to give myself a pick me up
and usually that involves a process where I throw caution to the wind
and do something that ends up blowing up in my face. I think I have
mentioned in the blog before that I was somewhat smitten with Misty
from across the street at work (see evidence of this in the PlayMisty for me entry to this blog), well tonight I decided that I would
have flowers sent to her at work tomorrow. I am not sure what I
expect to come from it, most normal people would simply ask someone
out if they were interested in them, I guess I am going all stealth
mode in that regard. If the flowers get tossed out in the street or
given back to me I will know she is completely not interested, if not
then I know as much now as I will tomorrow, but I will feel better.
Yes, giving things away does make me feel better. Maybe that is why
my mom overdid Christmas so much when I was a kid, I enjoy giving
things away now that I have reached a point in my life where I can.
So if they don't boomerang back to me, it's a win.
Fear not blog readers, I will keep
you in the loop as to how things go. If they go at all.
Speaking of blog readers, I saw
via tracker info today that someone has me on a blog reader. I can
tell because it comes up as localhost on my tracker. Hopefully it
isn't the crazy Canadian, who did have me on a reader at one point.
I would prefer to think that maybe someone else out there made the
mistake of putting this on a reader than revisiting horror stories of
my past. We move forward around these parts, unless I am retelling a
funny story (okay, funny to me story), other than that I have no
desire to revisit the past.
Perhaps my past needs a
proofreader as well, just to go and edit out all of the mistakes. If
only it were that easy.
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