One would be wrong.
I was looking at my Facebook posts this morning, and for some reason, feel the need to purge my Status Updates to all of you fine folks that really only know me in the blogging world.
I may have given you the impression that I am a deep soul. Romantic. Deep. Did I already say that one?
And, sometimes I’m a cheesy dramatic on Facebook, too. But not much of the time.
Try not to judge.*Every night as I’m brushing my teeth..I remember that I forgot to bring my face cleanser stuff in from the camper.We went camping 3 weeks ago.I have 31 zits.Yet I am too tired to put shoes on and tramp out there to get it.
And a little scared of the dark.
These are confessions of a lazy, easily spooked, clogged pores girl.
or there’s this one:*Today
If in random conversation today…I say…”can i be frank?”
And random conversationER picks up on it..and says..”no. Ur Lisa.”
I will hand that person $10.
*ur excluded from contest if reading this*
Or this one: ( I wrote for and TAGGED my daughter in)*Freedom of expression.It seems I’m not able to write whatever I want on Facebook any longer.
This one’s for you darlin: ♫C’mon people, now
smile on your brother,
ev’ry-body get together,
… try to love one another right now.
And let your Mom write whatever she is feelin..right now.♫I think the Hippies are smiling down on me right now. It’s like so groovy.
Sometimes, though….my sweet, over the top romantic comes out:My middler just taught me how to throw a baseball so that it actually goes where it’s sposed to.*Good thing he’s a patient boy*All my good words I’ve ever said echoed back to me:…U got it!! That was awesome! You’re getting it!!I noticed none of my impatience I’ve occasionally shown in his childhood was used against me.
*that’s the magic of kids *
but most of the time…you get my snarky, silly self:I’m worried. Phone tucked between my ear and shoulder…gabbing with my Mom as I throw together supper for after various practices tonight. My mom innocently asks what I’m makin….. U know..that hamburger thing..with..what are those potato things called??.. ole’s? Wait..hamburger…potato thing casserole…no. thats not it. U know Mom? It’s got that …stuff…in it? It sadly went on a little …longer. Until she helped me spit it out. Tator Tot Casserole. In 10 yrs..we’ll be lucky if I can remember my own name. OMG.
And, more often than not, I throw completely random, song lyrics out there:It’s been a long time since I’ve rock n’ rolled.
What would I do if I lived HERE? With no way to tell the world my innermost thoughts?
I don’t want to know.