Not Me Monday

Okay, first off, let me say that I am at the local library and am DEFINITELY having "technical issues" with the bloggy world. Don't know what the deal is, but apparently here in the library at Bedrock they are not up to date with programs necessary to open more than one page at a time. I understand the need for extra security precautions, blah blah blah, but SHEESH, ONE PAGE?

Moving along.

Welcome to Not Me Monday brought to us by "A crazy lady I no longer wish to be associated with but hate to delete these posts because they tell stuff I did."

It is not me who is sitting in said library just minutes after leaving the dentist to have not one, not two, but THREE teeth filled today and feel like Joan Crawford after another dose of Botox gone wrong.

It is also not me who thinks I perhaps have a piece of SOMETHING from my mouth debris in my left eye, and it is not driving me crazy.

It was not me who FINALLY met an ADULT, not just a teenager or 20-something year old, who appreciated my "I Drive Like Edward Cullen" sticker as I entered the library and we most certainly did not talk about that little hunk of a fella. I am not practicing up on my "cougar" skills.

It was not me who stomped around in boots and the whole "get up" Saturday to put balloons up in frigid weather and snow for Dylan's second birthday party. He did not love his Nee Nee's efforts, and watch me from the window.

It was not me who almost fell in the driveway, thought I was safe and no one saw me, only to have my sister open the door and yell, "I SAAAAAAAAAW THAT!" at the top of her lungs.

It was not Dylan who immediately threw his BJ football at our Neighbor Amy (not to be confused with Momma Amy, even though Dylan now calls Neighbor Amy "Nother Momma" cause he is so stinking smart to know they have the same first name) as soon as he opened it and nearly dislocated her knee cap. We're talking about a nano second before that football was put to use.

It was not Aunt Willi and Tonette who finally have 'names' from Dylan. "Woo Woo" is not Aunt Willie, and "Nette" is not Tonette. We do not all officially have names. Even Carol Jo. She is "My Jo." (Cuzzin Robyn will have to have a name, too, ya know!)

It is not me who keeps forgetting to send Cuzzin Robyn the documents I found on our Great-grandmother from ancestry dot com and the census stuff concerning her birth and travel from Hungary. I do not plan on making that a FABULOUS True Story Tuesday very soon. It isn't funny, but novel-worthy. So amazing. Of course, while I am thinking about it and would actually remember to SEND the stuff, I am not at the library where I do not have access to said documents.

 

Happy Monday!