Oh who am I kidding. It's impossible to unblog my brain, because as soon as one story comes out, another story goes in.
In and out. In and out. Round and round. And round. That's the spin cycle of my mind.
Which reminds me of a conversation I had with my mom when I started blogging two years ago.
"Does this blogging thingie relieve some of the pressure on your brain?" she said.
"For a second," I said.
Even though my mom thinks blogging is an ugly word, she understands how heavy it is to carry all these nouns and verbs and adverbs and linking verbs and transitive verbs and adjectives around inside my head. Not to mention all the opinions, ideas, stories and dreams. Especially the meaty ones. The steak and potato ones, not the soup and salad ones. The steak and potato ones are so much more difficult to digest and regurg.
You get me?
Last week there were two comments in my box that I really wanted to smother in steak sauce and serve up steamy hot to all you peeps. But I had to put them on the back burner so I could make the Trek ROCKUMENTARY before I prepared the men in my life to survive in the wilderness for two days so I could force twelve girl cousins at gunpoint to slumber at my house and play dress ups and have hula hoop contests and light saber wars and paint their faces and their t-shirts and watch Barbie movies all night long.
Plus I had to play Gilmore Girls with my daughter all weekend.
For the record, I lub playing Gilmore Girls with my daughter all weekend. You get to watch back to back to back Ghost Whisperer and try on funky clothes at Mona Lisa Consignment and watch Pride and Prejudice with Spanish Subtitles and go to the movies with my mom before she makes you her famous home made tacos.
(Btw, Flipped is the cutest movie ever.)
Anyways! Can you see why I am so back-blogged?
I hope my thoughts aren't cold, or worse yet, overcooked now that they've been simmering in my brain all week.
Let's see, shall we?
Okay, first item on the menu is . . .
Oh wait! Hold that thought. I gotsta go rustle up some actual grub to feed my chillin's real quick.
Be right back!
(Or in other words, BRB!)