Words_Spring Fever

Yo, yo... yayayay yo. I like to greet my parents this way sometimes. Nine times out of ten it always results in a disgruntled reaction from them and I have no idea why. Is it because I do it at three in the morning? Who knows. Also, I'm 30. So, a few things have happened since I last posted, which was soooo one month ago ("cool" joke = 1). I've moved out of my house of four years. What I'll miss the most is, well, absolutely nothing judging from the last few months. Because when you find out one of your roommates is a flesh-eating robot, the only thing you can do is get the H out of there and move in with your parents. Yes, you know it's bad when moving back in with your parents at 30 is the sensible option. But seriously. The truth is, I have moved in with my parents: Lt. Dan and Jessica Rabbit. On my first day here, I got a migraine. Then I accidentally broke one of my mom's highly cherished mementos (which I fixed successfully...I think). I've also made it a habit to stumble through the door at 4 a.m. (7:30 p.m.) three sheets to the wind (parched for a glass of seltzer water), feel my way to my room and then completely pass out on my bed (peel back the covers and spoon with Carebear). This is temporary, mind you. And thank goodness because I don't know if I can handle wild night after wild night (fact: I went to bed before my parents last night).

What's Robbe doing you ask? Well, he's bacheloring it up at our new residence, that's what he's doing. Yours truly will be officially girling the place up come June 2 when we will be for better or for worse, wrapped tightly up like a Mexican burrito for the rest of our lives. "Why don't you just live together? That's a little old-fashioned, isn't it?" First of all, your face is old-fashioned. Second of all, here's my knowledge drop. One of my best friends put it perfectly recently when we were discussing failed relationships and her new outlook on life as we know it. "I'm just doing it God's way you know? I've tried it the other way and it sucks." It's as simple as that, folks. I'm not going to pretend I know what's better for me or for us; I'm leaving it up to the one who is, oh, just a wee bit wiser and a wee bit greater than little ol' me. (Does God have an Irish accent? I hope so.) Plus, I think Jessica Rabbit and Lt. Dan like having me around...when I'm not breaking their precious keepsakes (I swear it was an accident).