holy macaroni.

Having been distracted by a text message between writing that title, and writing 'Having,' I can't actually remember what I was planning to write about. Shock-- I have the attention span of a chipmunk. In lieu of whatever I was going to write-- something that was undoubtedly earth-shattering in its epicness-- I'll write the first few things that come to my mind.

David and I text each other in hashmarks #asseenonTwitter. It was really just a joke at first, but now I have to remind myself not to do it with other people because it's not exactly normal text etiquette. Furthermore, I'm thinking in hashmarks and kind of talking in them too. That is, I'll make/think a remark, and then have a follow-up explanation remark. As in, "Peyton Manning is clearly the cuter Manning. #truth" This is further confirmation that social media is taking over my life #ivegottogetagrip

Mom and I went to the grocery store tonight after a little shopping spree in Huntsville. With a "winter weather advisory" (whatever that is) upon us, people are starting to freak out a little. Nary a loaf of bread was to be found on the shelves, although I've never been convinced that white bread is what I would want to snack on in the event of a snowstorm. I'm having a hard time getting excited about the supposed blizzard because I find that these things rarely come to fruition. It seems in high school I was often "guaranteed" a snow day only for my dad to wake me up and inform me that it "didn't stick." And even in the event that the school system did shut down-- depending on whether or not a flurry or two was sighted after 6 am-- it seems like my promised snow day was just a wasted day to be made up at the end of the school year. Hurricane Ivan, for instance, was a day out of school for what turned out to be rain, lots of rain. Sure, I enjoyed the hurricane party in the basement; I did not, however, enjoy making up our hurricane day in May. #backtosnow Those in the know (that is, those who watch the news #notI) seem to think that I'm going to get snowed into my apartment. While this seemed like a fun idea as a child, as an adult I'm thinking more along the lines of using my cat for heat and living off old Ritz crackers and melted snow. Maybe I should rethink the white bread...

Facebook is killing me. I mean, yes, it may actually be killing me by rotting my brain out and numbing my sense of socialization, but what I mean is... Facebook statuses are killing me. Every time I sign on, which is more often than I care to admit, there are 20 new updates along the lines of "Boarding the plane for Glendale! War Eagle!" I mean, honestly, how many people can that town hold? When I was little, my brother's friends fit me into a tuba case; I feel like I could've tucked into someone's luggage (too cliche?). I missing the most EPIC family reunion of all time, and if you know me, you know how I love a good family gathering. And if you're a Duck, you should know that I'm pretty handy with a shotgun.

In conclusion, I still don't know what I was going to write initially. So much for my Nobel Prize.